


Fragmented Snow

by UmbreonGal



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Feels, Gen, Possible smut, Yuri on Ice - Freeform, ocxcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 43,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9166783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UmbreonGal/pseuds/UmbreonGal
Summary: Clara Novikoff moves to Saint Petersburgh, Russia from her home in Chicago to take her next step in her competitive skating career after a sudden hiatus from the sport. She has her heart set on a strong comeback, starting with winning gold at the Grand Prix Final. However, she finds the road to victory is just as long and complicated as ever.Follow the tag ontumblr. I post a bit of art here and there.





	1. Lagging

**Author's Note:**

> Fragmented Snow takes place about 5 years after the end of Yuri!!! On Ice season 1.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

“Clara, you are a strong young woman. You can do this. I am rooting for you back home. I’m so proud of you. Good luck, Sugar Plum.” A thick, Russian accent rasped through the speakers of her phone. The tone, encouraging and warm.

Clara smiled softly as she took her phone down from her ear. She pocketed her phone as she saw her two pieces of luggage come around the corner. She hoisted her bags off the conveyer belt and placed the tag along on the ground. She extended the handle and secured her suitcase on top of the tag along with a series of straps then adjusted her backpack before making her way through customs which went quickly as she had come in well before the tourist season. Once she was cleared she stepped out of Pulkovo International Airport.

Clara hailed a cab and loaded her luggage in. “Prospect Chernyshevskogo 4, please.” she politely requested. The cabby nodded and drove towards the Center district of Saint Petersburg. The ride was nearly forty minutes, of which Clara watched the buildings go by. Everything felt familiar yet different all at once. She had been in Russia quite a few times in her career, but only Sochi and Moscow. Moscow was just barely a handful of times. The Grand Prix usually had her starting in Chicago or Canada before sending her off to France or China. They arrived at the apartment building where she unloaded her bags after paying her fare. She fished the keys she had gotten just days before in the mail. Clara held her breath as she put the first key into the door for the building. It fit and unlocked to her relief. She adjusted her backpack and rolled in with her luggage. She got to the elevator and took it up to the fourth floor. She paused after stepping out of the elevator car. She squinted as she looked at the signs in front of her. She could converse in Russian, but reading it was a whole other endeavor. She took out her phone and used the translator app. Okay, her unit was to the right she briskly walked down the hall and quickly found it. She unlocked the door and stepped into the small foyer. Setting her bags off to the side, she walked straight into the living and dining area. The space was already furnished with fancy modern furniture in various shades of black, white and grey. Definitely a change from the browns and greens that furnished her previous residence. She opened the blue curtains to the bay window where the dining area was arranged, a simple table with four small chairs. She would have been fine with a simple collapsible TV tray, but the table was nice. She cracked open the windows to let in some fresh air as she looked down at the street. People were going about their business, shopping mostly. Which reminded her, she needed to make a list. She looked at her phone. It was nearly five in the evening, too late to really go shopping and prepare a meal. Looks like she was eating out again. Where was the question. Too late in the day for cafe, which reminded her that she needed to get a coffee maker. The natural remedy for jet lag in her case was a large mug of black coffee.

Clara pulled away from the window and went to haul her luggage into the bedroom. A queen sized bed sat in the middle of the room with a dresser tucked against the wall. She opened the curtains and window in the room as well, despite it being connected to the living area by a set of folding doors.

Not a bad space at all. For what was nearly a thousand dollars a month, it wasn't bad. Plus with the utilities, WiFi and cable TV, all included in the price, it was a steal compared to what she had back in the states. Being pre-furnished was also a great bonus. Less she had to worry about. She hoisted well worn leather suitcase onto the bed and unlocked it. The metal locks snapped upward and she opened it to see her athletic wear neatly folded and everything in place. She dug out a wooden picture frame that she had carefully packed into the case. Clara paused to look at the old man with a thick, white beard beaming with pride as he held a little girl, no older than 10, in a pink leotard with so many sequins that the stars would grow jealous with how she sparkled in his arms as she held a bronze medal in her hands. Clara slowly placed the frame on the dresser. She kissed her first two fingers and placed them to the glass.

“I made it safely Poppo.” Clara took a shaking breath and squeezed her eyes shut as she released it. She unpacked her clothes, putting them away neatly in the dresser. She then put her toiletries away in the water closet.

Once she was unpacked she grabbed her wallet and keys and left for the market. The streets were bustling with people out on the town, on their way home from a day at work, or finishing up their errands. At the market she bought the basics. Eggs, rice, chicken, and a variety of fresh vegetables. She picked up the smallest coffee maker they had available, a mug and a can of coffee grounds. On the way home she stopped by a cafe to pick up a variety of pastries. Once she was satisfied with her supply she headed back home. She made a simple omelette for dinner, a late one but it was something.

She stayed up for a while longer, setting up her itinerary for the next two days. As of Monday she was back to training. She had until then to shake the jet lag and get back into a routine. Clara got up from her seat at the table and closed the windows and the curtains before taking her dishes to the sink and quickly washed them. She then closed the curtains and the windows to her room before changing into her night shirt and crawling under the covers.

Clara plugged in her phone and pulled up the sound file.

“Clara, you are a strong young woman. You can do this. I am rooting for you back home. I’m so proud of you. Good luck, Sugar Plum.”

Clara closed her eyes, a tear running down her cheek.

The alarm rang through the apartment, lighting up the small room with a dull light. Clara shot up and gasped before groaning. The bed looked like a battlefield. The covers thrown every which way and the extra pillows had made it onto the floor. She rubbed her eyes and ran her fingers through her blonde hair. She needed a shower. And coffee. She yawned and looked at her phone. 6 am. She slowly blinked as she contemplated just going back to sleep. She still had another day until she had to be at the rink. Clara shook her head and huffed as she got out of bed. The hardwood floor was cold against her feet. She opened the double doors to the living area and made her way to the small kitchen. She turned on the coffee maker, having prepared it the night before. The machine gurgled as it woke up and set to work. Clara took her new mug out of the dish rack and set it by the coffee maker. She dragged her feet to the water closet where she brushed her teeth and brushed her hair and twisted it into a french braid.

Clara returned to the kitchen and made a quick breakfast of one of the pastries, some bacon, and a few eggs she had gotten the night before. She poured the contents of the coffee pot into her large mug and carried everything to the table. She opened the curtains and sat down, looking at the street below. Hardly anybody was up yet and she couldn’t blame them, she used to sleep in on Saturdays when she got the chance. But she needed to combat her jet lag so early mornings, long runs and coffee were going to be the norm until she adjusted. She sipped her coffee and munched on the crispy bacon. Once she finished her breakfast she rinsed the dishes and changed into her athletic wear. Thick, black athletic pants, a white shirt and a lightweight purple jacket. She pulled on a pair of socks and dug out her shoes. She securely tied them, making sure they were snug.

“Ok, so the best route is…” She pulled up the map on her phone. “Huh, just over five miles.” She could easily run that for now, but she would have to look into getting a bike eventually. She unplugged her phone from the charger and picked up her headphones and keys. She’d jog at a steady pace. The map said it’d take over an hour to get there by foot, but if she kept a decent pace she could probably manage it in forty minutes.

Clara did a few stretches and a few sets of jumping jacks before hooking her headphones into her phone and heading out. She jogged north a couple of blocks until she reached the Neva River. She turned left, running along the river. The traffic whizzed past her, buses, cars, motorcycles. She paused at a corner, waiting for the signal. She could faintly hear the gulls through her music.

Clara felt a melancholic sensation as she released her breath. A sudden surge of homesickness took a hold of her, her mind briefly returning to Chicago. The bustling streets, the pier, the parks.

Maybe dropping everything and coming to Russia wasn't the best idea. Chicago was home for the longest time, despite the several years of traveling that her career brought with it. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced the doubt from her mind. New city. New start. New coach. New rink. New everything. She spoke Russian fairly fluently, so she had that going for her at least.

“Clara?”

She looked up to see a tall, fair haired young man jogging up to her. His hair was slicked back into a ponytail, leaving his multiple piercings exposed to shine in the morning light. He had long outgrown his ‘Russian Fairy’ title years ago, coming fully into the ‘Russian Punk’ part of his persona. Though with his affinity for animal print, ‘The Ice Tiger of Russia’ title still stood firm. Clara blinked and felt the dampness on her lashes. She was crying? Clara quickly wiped away her tears with her sleeve.

“Good morning, Yuri.” She gave a small smile. “It’s been a while, hasn't it?”


	2. Rinkmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

Men were dressed in their best suits and the ladies were donning their best dresses. The banquet hall was abuzz with conversation. Coaches mingled with members of the federation as the skaters mingled with each other. Clara stood off to the side of the room, gently holding a flute of champagne in her fingers. Her hair was loose for a change, her golden locks falling delicately down her back. Her deep purple gown simmered in the warm light of the room making it appear that was wearing a galaxy to the banquet rather than a dress. She sipped her drink and looked out over the room. She saw her coach mingling with her peers, including Viktor and Yakov, on the other side of the dance floor. She blinked as her phone started ringing.

She managed to answer it with her free hand, though she nearly dropped her glass. “Hello?... H-hold on… give me a moment.” she placed her glass down on the closest table as she quickly left the room. She stopped at the end of the hallway. “Sorry about that, it was hard to hear you. Is everything alright? Do you need me to translate?” She blinked back tears and covered her mouth. “How did…? When…? No, no, I understand… I'll be there as soon as I can. My flight is tomorrow afternoon. Feel free to call me at this number if you have any questions. Thank you.”

With a trembling hand she hung up and locked her phone. She stood there, staring blankly at the wall as tears cascaded down her face. Clara briskly walked to the closest bathroom and gathered a handful of paper towels. With shaking hands she wiped away her tears and took deep breaths until she calmed down enough. OK she had to talk to Heather first, she was sure her coach could cover for her. Then she could go back to her room. Moving up her flight would cost too much for something so last minute. Clara took a deep wavering breath before she marched out of the women's washroom, straight into him.

“Hey, watch it,” Yuri, the Ice Tiger of Russia, grunted. His brilliantly green eyes peered at her with annoyance but instantly softened despite the scowl glued to his lips.

“Sorry.” Clara’s voice cracked as the tears started again. Not now. Not in front of him. Not in front of any one. Get it together. Just keep it together for five minutes. Five minutes.

Yuri’s brows turned up in panic as he sharply inhaled. “Silver isn't something to cry about. It's not that bad for your first final.”

Clara stared blankly at him as her tears continued. Of course silver wasn't bad after the several years of just barely qualifying and getting in by the skin of her teeth. But this wasn't about the stupid medal. Yuri averted his eyes, but made no move to leave. Clara wiped away the tear with the palm of her hand. “Yuri, can you tell Heather I went back to my room?” She couldn’t go back in there. The seal had been broken and now she couldn't stop the tears or the shaking. “Please?”

Yuri furrowed his brow for a split second before he nodded. “Sure thing.” 

“Spasibo.” Her voice squeaked, her throat tightening. She turned and briskly walked up the hallway towards the elevators.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yuri shoved his hands into his jacket's pockets. “Yakov said you weren't arriving until Monday.”

“I start training on Monday. I arrived last night.” She bounced her toe on the sidewalk, trying to avoid his gaze.

He nodded and huffed as he narrowed his eyes. “You missed the Worlds. Mila was looking for you.”

Clara bit her lip and tried to withdraw into her jacket’s collar. “I know.”

“Yakov doesn't like slackers, you know.”

“I'm aware.”

“You skating today?”

Their eyes met and Clara quickly shook her head. “Just jogging today. Trying to combat jet lag.” She held back a yawn, the coffee was wearing off already.

Yuri’s lips morphed from a scowl to a smirk. “Not too tired for a friendly race, then?”

“To the rink?”

“Scared I’ll win?”

Clara smirked and stretched her arms out behind her. “Think you can keep pace for four miles?”

“You know I can.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Yuri scoffed and nodded his head towards the light pole behind him. “We start there. First to touch the doors wins.”

“Easy enough.” Clara strutted past him and stood beside the light post. She put on her headphones and started her music.

Yurio put in his ear buds and stood beside her. They braced themselves, looking up the road, then to each other. Yuri sneered. Clara narrowed her eyes and they were off. Yuri quickly pulled ahead as his stride was longer than hers, he had sprung up to nearly six feet over the past few years. Clara kept a steady pace. He had the advantage of knowing the area, so she would just keep pace with him until she saw the rink. That’s when she’d put on a burst of speed. She just had to keep up until then. There was practically a straight shot and soon the New Holland complex came over the horizon. Clara smirked and narrowed her eyes as she pushed off with greater speed. Within three strides she caught up with Yuri, much to his surprise. She flashed a smile and pushed harder.

“Hey!” the punk roared. Clara smirked and cut through the parking lot. Yuri swore and she could here his footsteps drawing closer.

Clara pushed harder and focused on the door. She put on one final burst of speed and reached out for the door’s handle. Her fingers touched and she managed to stop before ramming into the door.

“Shit,” Yuri wheezed as he came to a stop by her. He bent over, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “Thought I had you.”

Clara smiled. Her lungs and legs were on fire, but it felt good. So much for the jog home. She’s barely manage that pace now. She straightened up. “I thought you nearly did, to be fair. Going inside?”

Yuri nodded. “Yeah.”

Clara opened the door and bowed. “After you.”

Yuri glared at her as he stepped into the sports complex. Clara followed him. “Are you going to stick around? Practice starts soon.”

“I don’t have my skates with me today,” She took a drink from the water fountain.

“You could watch,” Yuri said flatly.

Clara took down her hair and combed her fingers through her hair, gently shaking it out of the braid. “Might as well,” she sighed. “Get the lecture out of the way.” Yakov was one of the toughest coaches a skater could get their hands on. Whether his skaters listened to him was a whole other story.

“I’m going to go change, just head in. It’s-”

“The room with the ice rink. Got it.” Clara waved her hand and smiled as she turn on her heal. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and headed to the rink. Cold air struck her face as she opened the door. A few skaters were already there. She squinted, the glare of the ice made it difficult to see for a few moments.

“Clara!” Mila waved from the ice. She glided over, meeting Clara at the wall. “You’re here early, even for you.” Her blue eyes sparkled brightly as she chuckled. “How was your trip?”

“Some turbulence, but it was smooth otherwise.” Clara brushed her hair back behind her ear. “Sorry about disappearing, Mila. I know you were looking forward to our rematch at the Worlds.”

“Well, make it up to me this year. You are going to skate, right?”

“I’ve been away too long as it is. I’m starting to go crazy.” Clara lightly laughed. “I’ve been thinking about my programs for this year, still stuck on the music. I’m close though.”

“Can’t do much without the music,” Mila huffed. She smiled gently. “I’m glad you’re coming back. You’ve worked too hard to quit now.”

“Took me years just to get into the Grand Prix series. Now that I won silver, I’m even more determined to get that gold.”

“Good spirit there. Just know that I’m not going to make it easy.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Clara glanced off to the side to see Yuri marching in and stepping onto the ice. She snickered to herself, Yuri was wearing a purple leopard print shirt with his black athletic pants today.

“Still can’t believe he’s wearing that.” Mila smirked. “Purple is more your color than his.”

Clara shrugged and looked out at the ice. Everybody was starting their warm ups or moving into practicing their programs. She held back a yawn. She flicked her thumb against her index finger, her body itching to get back on the ice. Just two more days. It was hardly mid morning and she was already exhausted, the race probably didn’t help things. Coffee wasn’t going to fix this.

“I should let you get back to your practice,” Clara said. “I’m going to attempt to figure out my music.”

“Udachi,” Mila waved and glided back into the rink.

Clara returned the wave and went to set on one of the few benches in the rink. She put her headphones back on and pulled up her program playlist. Every song she remotely thought considered made it onto this list. Last season she did a Nutcracker medley and a piece from Swan Lake. Her strong background in dance really shone through. Now it was a matter of bringing what got her silver and building upon it. She was aiming for gold this year in spite of her nearly three month hiatus. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the wall, trying to picture the choreography. Nothing stood out. Nothing felt right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where do you think you’re going, Sugar Plum?”

Clara froze, her winter coat half way on over her Hello Kitty pajamas. So much for stealth. “I was going to go get the mail, Poppo.”

“You need skates to get the mail?” He stepped out from the kitchen and knelt down. “You need time to get better, Sugar Plum.”

“I feel much better now,” Clara asserted as her nose started running again. She sniffed.

The elderly man took a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped her nose, being careful to not touch the three small stitches on her lip. “Really now?” Clara nodded with determined eyes and a stern expression. He chuckled and touched Clara’s forehead with the back of his hand. “Hm… No, you still have a fever. Back to bed.”

Clara pouted. “I don’t want to go to bed. It’s boring.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“Well I’m not sleepy.” She crossed her arms.

Artyom stroked his short beard then picked up his granddaughter. “How about a movie then?” He set her down in the large, brown La Z Boy recliner in the living room. He took off her coat and grabbed the blanket from the couch, wrapping her snuggly in it and surrounded her with the pillows from the couch. “Comfy?”

“Yeah...I guess.” Clara huffed.

“Good.” He ruffled her hair and put a VHS in the player. “I’m going to finish making the soup. No sneaking off.”

Clara wiggled down deeper into the chair and rested her head on the arm rest. She pouted until the movie started playing. Her sky blue eyes lit up as Anastasia started to play. The film sucked her in. Once Upon a December started playing. The shimmering ghostly figures descending into the the decrypted dance hall to begin the fantasy. Anya’s dance with her father. She couldn’t look away.

Artyom looked in from the kitchen and smiled softly as he saw her drifting off as the movie went on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You really can sleep anywhere.”

Clara lifted her head slowly from her chest has half her neck was numb. She rubbed her eyes before slowly opening them. Her headphones had fallen to the floor, but her phone was still in her hand. She blinked and let out a small yawn. “How long was I asleep?” She looked up and her eyes widened. “Victor… Uh...Hi.”

The skating legend turned coach smiled as he looked down at her. He had grown out his hair again. Today he was wearing it in a simple braid. “You weren't supposed to be here until Monday.”

“I ran into Yuri on my jog this morning,” Clara said as she retrieved her headphones from the floor. “Beat him in a race. I just ended up hanging out.” Which apparently turned into a nap.

Victor chuckled. “You will need your rest, as of Monday I’ll be your coach. I don’t plan on taking it easy on you.”

“Wait. What?”


	3. Sticky Notes and Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

“Victor, did you forget to contact her about the change?” The Japanese man gave an exasperated sigh and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You know how I forget things.”

“I reminded you. Several times. This is why there are sticky notes all over the apartment.” Yuri looked to Clara. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s… Fine…?” Clara ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Victor had somehow managed to compete and coach for the past few years. His only protege was his now husband, Yuri Katsuki of Japan. The Russian legend gracefully retired after concluding this past season. She bit her lip. “Can I ask why?”

Victor smiled. “Simple. You are poetry on ice.” He gestured to her whole being. “They way you skate, the music flows through you and it is quite the sight to behold.”

Clara raised her eyebrow. That’s what skating was supposed to be. Right?

“I know this is a lot to take in,” Yuuri said. He shot a stern look at his husband before looking at her with a look of empathy. “It is quite the surprise, trust me, but if you want to train under Yakov that’s your choice.”

Victor Nikiforov wanted to be her coach? The Victor Nikiforov. Could she walk away from such an opportunity? Did she even deserve this such a thing? She bit her lip. She wanted to win gold. Mila always pulled ahead of her by mere handfuls of points.Training under Yakov, with Mila, that could only take her so far. She needed to be better. Clara sharply exhaled and straightened her back. She met Victor’s eyes with a look that sent a shiver down Yuri’s spine and stepped forward, extending her hand.

“I accept your offer,” she said with a determined gleam in her eyes.

Victor beamed and took Clara’s hand. “Good. Starting today I’ll be your coach. And as your coach,” he tapped his chin, his golden wedding band shimmering in the light, “my first task for you is to pick your music and theme by the time we start on Monday.”

Clara’s face went blank. “What?”

“You’ve fallen behind in preparing for this next season with your little vacation. Now you have to catch up. You seem to still be in good physical form so we can just focus on your programs.” Victor’s eyes glimmered as he smirked. “Can you manage?”

“Of course,” Clara nodded.

“You should get some rest,” Yuuri suggested. “Do you need a ride back to your place? You ran here right?”

“I can walk.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “How far?”

“About...Four miles.”

“Victor, give her a ride home. I can start without you.”

“Just don't wear yourself out,” Victor teased with a quick wink. “Don’t want you too tired to work with me.”

“Then don't keep me waiting too long.” Yuuri walked off to the locker room.

Clara followed Victor to the parking lot. His car was shockingly practical. Most celebrities of his status would have some sort of flashy sports car rather than a standard vehicle. Victor unlocked the car and opened the passenger side door.

“So where are you staying?”

“Prospect Chernyshevskogo 4,” Clara said as she strapped herself in.

“Center district,” Victor gave a nod of approval.

The car ride was barely fifteen minutes, but it felt longer because of the uncomfortable silence. She had seen Victor and Yuuri in passing at several competitions, but never once had the chance to really talk to them. Heck, she had only just went to her first Grand Prix banquet this past December. She didn't even get much of a chance to mingle before she left for The States. Clara fished her keys out of her coat as Victor parked the car on in front of her building.

“Thanks for the ride.” She raised an eyebrow as she heard Victor remove his seat belt. She stepped out of the car, watching for traffic as she got on the sidewalk.

“Nice building. How's the accommodations?”

“They're fine. Compared to what I paid in The States I think I came out ahead when you consider the location.” She unlocked the first door. She paused. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Coffee sounds nice.” Victor followed her through the lobby and up to her third floor apartment. As they turned the corner from the elevator, a sizable pile of boxes came into view. “That's quite a bit of fan mail.” Victor said, half joking.

Clara unlocked her door and cracked it open with her toe as she grabbed the top box. “Just a few things from Chicago.” She opened the door fully and held it for Victor. “It’s a bit bare right now. I just got in last night.”

“It’s an adorable little apartment. Looks cozy.”

Clara set the box down by the door and went to the kitchen and started the coffee maker. “I don't have cream or sugar. I drink mine straight, hope that's okay.”

“It’s fine. I can help you with these boxes while we wait.”

“Yeah. Okay.” She took her mug from the dish rack and grabbed another from the cabinet, placing them on the counter beside the appliance.

“Sorry, what's all in here?” Victor asked as they quickly brought the boxes into the foyer. “This one is heavier than it looks.”

“Trophies, clothes, a few things from my old place.”

“Is this all?”

Clara nodded. “No sense in paying for a storage unit when I’m living in another country. I did a pretty major purge before moving.” The coffee maker beeped and Clara poured their cups of coffee. She tapped her mug as Victor took a sip of his coffee.

“If I’m going to be your coach, Clara, I think I should get to know you a little better.”

Clara raised an eyebrow as she sipped her drink. “Okay...What do you want to know?”

“Hm… What’s your family like? What are your hobbies? Do you have a lover?”

Clara nearly choked on her tea. “What?” she coughed.

“You’re a master at keeping your skating career separate from your personal life.”

“Because I’m the one skating, not my family.” Clara sighed. “Though, if you’re my coach I suppose you should know…”

“Oh?”

Clara blinked back tears as her throat tightened. “My mother died in a car accident when I was two. My father was never in the picture so my grandpa took me in. I guess he was lonely since my grandmother passed away before I was even born.” She paused, trying to stop the tears. “He bought me my first pair of skates. I taught myself on the pond by our house before he signed me up for classes. He...He uh… Couldn’t always make it to my competitions since he had a bakery to run.” A melancholy smile came to her lips. “He was my biggest fan.”

“Was?”

Clara took a shaking breath. “He… Was sick for a long time. He passed away this past December. I went back home to settle things.”

Victor’s expression went blank as he slowly put the pieces together. “The banquet.” Clara quickly lifted her mug as Victor tightly wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry for your loss, Clara.”

Clara squeezed her eyes shut as the tears broke free and cascaded down her cheeks. “He promised he’d stick around until I won gold at the Final...” She stepped out the hug and furrowed her brow. “I want to win gold, Victor. I want to stand in the center podium. I was so close and I know I can do it this year. I’m dedicating this season to him. To his memory.” Her heart was pounding. She wiped away her tears.

Victor beamed, his eyes glimmering with admiration or tears she couldn’t tell. “Then we’ll win gold.”

Clara managed a small smile. Victor finished his coffee and left to return to the rink. She leaned against the front door as she closed it behind Victor. She felt...lighter. In spirit at least. Crying in front of her new coach on the first day probably wasn’t the best start. But she felt a little better now. She pushed off from the door and went to the bedroom. She closed both sets of doors before plugging her phone into the charger and flopping forward into the pillows. She lay on her side, looking at the photo on the dresser. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was setting when she woke up to the intercom ringing loudly from the other side of the bedroom door. She groaned and hoisted herself out of bed, dragging her feet as she went to the door. She pressed the button as she leaned against the wall.

“Who is it?”

“Did we wake you?” Yuuri’s voice came through the speaker.

“Let her sleep,” Yuri huffed. “Why am I even here?”

“Clara, can you let us in?” Victor asked. “Not sure how much longer the bags will hold up.”

“Uh. Sure. Hold on.” She pressed the button to let them in and turned on the lights. She tried to move the boxes off to the side more as to get them out of the way.

Victor, Yuuri, and Yuri soon came through the door. Yuuri carried a grocery bag in one arm and held a leash in the opposite hand. Clara found herself suddenly tackled to the floor by a white goldendoodle and her face being assaulted by affectionate licks. She pushed the dog away with her arm.

“Bella, no,” Yuuri said sternly. The dog playfully whined as she sat, her tail wagging furiously.

Victor laughed. “She likes you, that’s a good sign.” He walked into the kitchen, carrying two other bags of groceries. “Yuuri the kitchen is this way.”

“She likes everybody,” Yuri huffed. He offered a hand to Clara, helping her off the floor. “Victor says we should have a ‘family meal’. Something about getting to know you better. Apparently he’s going to be your coach instead of Yakov.”

“Yeah. Took me by surprise,” Clara rubbed her eyes and yawned.

“Get used to it,” Yuri advised. “Yuuri’s the only one who can figure him out half of the time.”

“Fantastic.” Clara ran her fingers through her hair. She needed to shower, but not with company over. First thing in the morning. After coffee.

“What’s with the boxes?” Yuri asked.

“Things I couldn’t fit in my luggage.” She looked into the kitchen. Victor and Yuuri were unloading the groceries onto the counter. Bella had made herself comfortable on the chair in the living room. “Well, looks like they have everything handled.” She picked up a box marked ‘Books’ and carried it into the living area. Yuri followed and sat on the ottoman as Clara ripped the tape off the box. She was going to start unpacking anyway.

“Read a lot?”

Clara chuckled. “Not as much as I’d like to.” She lifted the flaps. “Besides, these aren’t those kind of books.” Inside was a collection of leather bound journals and cookbooks, all well worn and some being bound together by several layers of duct tape.

Yuri’s lips curled into a small smile. “Never took you as a cook.”

“Baker,” Clara said pointedly. “These were Poppo’s. All his notes, his recipes, his experiments. Felt wrong to get rid of them so I brought them with me.” A somber smile came to her face. “I helped him during the off season and between competitions. I love the ice, but it was nice to get away once in awhile.”

Yuri nodded. “You were close, huh?”

“It was the two of us against the world.” Clara started unpacking the box, lining the books up on the entertainment center. “I got this scar on my lip during my first winter when I picked up skating. The rink as too far for me at the time so I would go to the pond near our house and skate. Well one day I went to the pond right after school. I was so excited that I didn’t realize that the ice had thinned. I fell down and broke through the ice, splitting my lip.” She chuckled. “I remember pulling myself out of the water and taking off my skates. I walked home soaking wet, bleeding and without shoes carrying my skates.”

Yuri snickered. “Seriously?”

“I ended up with three stitches and a really bad cold. I still tried to sneak out to skate.” She looked at the books on the shelf. “I think I might have taken him for granted though. He was always there for me, even if he barely got to see me compete. He kept my first trophies in the bakery.” She looked at Yuri and blushed. “Sorry, I was rambling.”

“Just a little.” He leaned closer to her, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I’m glad you’re coming back. Mila’s gotten cocky since winning gold.”

Clara smirked. “Oh, I plan on taking gold this year. It’s not going to last long.”

Yuri smiled. “Good.”


	4. Doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

“So you picked your music?” Yuri asked as he gently pushed down on Clara’s back, helping her stretch.

“For the short program at least,” Clara hooked her fingertips onto her toes. “I’m dedicating this season to Poppo, I want it to be perfect. Something worthy of a gold medal.”

“What’s the song?”

“Once Upon a December. An instrumental version of it.”

“What’s the theme you’re going with?”

“Hm...Not quite sure yet.” Clara switched legs. “I pick the music then come up with a theme.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yuri stated.

They finished their stretches as Yakov, Victor and Yuuri entered the rink. The husbands were playfully chatting, or flirting, maybe both. Probably both. Clara put on her skates, making sure they were snug. She zipped up her jacket and took a deep breath. Today was her first official day with Victor as her coach. She pulled up the song on her phone, ready to present it to him, and marched toward the couple. Her guards clacking against the rubber covered floor.

“Good morning, Victor,” she greeted, rather stiff and formal.

“Good morning, Clara,” Yuuri smiled.

“Get a good night’s rest?” Victor asked.

Clara nodded. “I did. I picked the music for my Short Program.” She offered her phone and headphones. Victor listened to the music, his face stoic as the song played. Clara bit her lip.

“Hm. It’s not a unique choice, but it’s the performance that counts. What about your free skate?”

“Ah. Well… I’m still figuring out the music for that one.” She scratched her nose.

Victor pursed his lips and her heart sank a bit. He didn’t seem all that enthusiastic. “Well, we can start with the Short Program then.” He returned the phone to Clara. “I looked at your past performances. Your step sequences are masterful and your spins are polished. Your jumps need a lot of work. You’re inconsistent with your landings. Can you land any quads?”

“No. I’ve been working on a Quad Axel, though.”

“Not surprising,” Yakov stated gruffly. “Most female skaters have trouble with quads.”

Clara’s eyebrow twitched. ”I mean quads are difficult for most skaters. Wouldn’t be much fun if everybody could land them. I’m sure I can land it with enough practice.”

“There’s no need for that right now,” Victor said. “We’ll start with fundamentals then we can work out the choreography.” He smiled a sultry smile to Yuuri, who was doing his stretches. “I’ll start with Yuuri today.”

Clara nodded. She removed her guards and stepped onto the ice. She started gliding, starting with a few laps to warm up her legs. She couldn’t tell if Victor was helping Yuuri with his stretches or trying to undress him. She huffed. She wasn’t sure what to expect out of Victor as a coach. Why did she take his offer? Why did he even want to coach her? ‘Poetry in motion’, that’s what he referred to her skating as. What did that even mean? What did he want out of her?

“Hey,” Yuri skated up beside her, the sound of his blades on the ice bringing her out of her own head.

“So is this a regular thing? The displays of affection,” Clara asked. They were rather handsy and flirty the other night when they suddenly showed up at her apartment to make dinner. Not that she minded, she would have been way too tired to cook for herself. Could have gone without the PDA, though.

“Yeah. You’ll get used to it. Should have seen them after they got married. Couldn’t get them apart.”

“Gag inducing, I assume.”

“You have no idea,” Yuri huffed. “So what’d he think?”

“I don’t think he was impressed.” She shrugged, trying to shake off her doubt. “I mean, many people have skated to that music before. I think he wanted something with more flair.”

“Victor likes to surprise people.”

“I’ve noticed. I can handle it though,” Clara stated more for herself than for anything else.

“Hm..Well, good luck with that.”

Eventually Yuri split off to train with Mila, Georgi and Yakov. Clara occupied her time practicing her spins and doing figures. She looked over at Yuuri and Victor. Whether the Russian man was correcting Yuuri’s posture or copping a feel, she really couldn’t tell. Victor seemed to be a rather hands-on sort of coach.

“Your leg is looking sloppy,” Victor stated as he glided over. Clara straightened her leg. He gave a short nod of approval. “Better.”

“About the short program,” Clara said as she switched blades. “I wanted to do it sort of like a waltz.”

“A waltz?”

“As in ballroom dancing.” She turned and looped around Victor.

Victor tapped his chin then gave a quick nod. “We can work with that. Why a waltz?”

“Can’t do a foxtrot on ice,” Clara said simply. “Believe me, I’ve tried. Toe-pick gets in the way. Plus a waltz suits the music better.”

Victor chuckled. “I see you’ve already started the choreography.”

“I don’t use music unless I can see myself skating to it.”

“Seems like you’re putting yourself in a box with that way of thinking.” He pursed his lips as he closed his eyes. Clara looped back. “I got it.” His eyes opened, sparkling with inspiration. “I’ll pick the music for your Free Program.”

“Wait what?”

“You’re having trouble picking another song, right? So I’ll pick the music and work on the basic routine.” He nodded in satisfaction. “I’m going to get you out of that little box of yours.” Clara bit her lip. It wasn’t uncommon for coaches to pick their skaters’ music, but Clara was more collaborative in her approach. Heather, her former coach, had brought many songs and scores to her attention during their time together. She had used some of them, but only after constant goading from her coach. Perhaps Victor had a point though. Maybe she was in a box? She didn’t want to stagnate. Not now. “If you can pick something better, I will choreograph the routine with you.” She broke from the figure eight and skated up to Victor. He offered his hand. “Deal?”

She met Victor’s gaze and nodded. “Alright then.” She took his hand. Firmly squeezing it. “When’s the deadline?”

“Thursday. Until then we can work on your Short Program.”

“Fair enough.” They shook hands.

Practice went quickly. Clara started by showing Victor the waltz like step sequence she had in mind to open the routine. He seemed to be intrigued, but not fully onboard. He decided to have her work on her spins and jumps. She landed her triple axels well enough as well as the lutz. By the time practice was over her body was aching and her feet were throbbing.

Clara sharply inhaled as she removed her skates and changed her socks. No blood today which was nice. She rubbed her feet before putting on a fresh pair. She took the towel out of her bag and thoroughly wiped them down to remove any moisture before putting the rubber guards on.

“Hey Clara,” Mila called as she walked into the locker room. “What are your plans tonight?”

“Hot bath and unpacking while picking music,” Clara said blankly.

Mila pouted. “That sounds dull.”

“Did you have something else in mind?” Clara started putting her shoes on, loosely tying the laces.

“A night on the town? You are new here, you should get to know the city. The boys are pretty cute.”

Clara chuckled. “I’m sure they are, Mila.”

“Just a few drinks. Maybe some dancing. Nothing crazy, I promise.”

Clara stood up. “Fine. I’ll meet you. Where’d you have in mind?”

“Griboedov, it’s in the central district. I’ll text you the address. Wear something cute and be there by seven.”

“Alright. See you then.” Clara waved and walked out of the locker room.

“Hey, you need a ride?” Yuri asked. Half his face was obscured by is fair, blonde hair as it was free from the ponytail he wore during practice. If it weren’t for his love of leopard print, leather, and studs he’d present himself as an angel. “You ran here this morning, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll give you a ride back to your apartment.”

“You have a car?”

“Something like that.” Yuri smirked, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat, and headed to the parking lot.

“When did you get a motorcycle?” Clara gasped.

“About a month ago. Bought it as a birthday present to myself,” Yuri handed her a helmet. “Otabek taught me during his last visit. I took a few classes and got my license.”

“Watch out Russia, the Punk has a license,” Clara teased as she put on the helmet.

“Got that right.” Yuri got on the bike and started it up. He put on his sunglasses and looked to her. Her heart skipped a beat as she got on the seat behind him. “Hold on.”

Clara grabbed Yuri’s waist only to find herself clinging to him as he turned onto the road from the parking lot where he revved the engine and they started gunning it down the road. She dug her fingers into his leather coat as he weaved through the maze of cars. This driving would scare the crap out of even the most seasoned Chicago cab driver. She swore they had ran a red light. Clara squeezed her eyes shut. He was definitely taking an alternate route to her apartment. A very alternate route. The bike finally came to a stop and Clara managed to peel her arms off of him.

“Thanks for the ride,” she wheezed. Apparently she was holding her breath for a while. She got off the bike and removed her helmet.

“No problem,” Yuri turned off the bike. He adjusted his sunglasses. “I live nearby, if you need a ride, just text me or something.”

“I’d need your number first.” She dug her phone out of her bag. She pulled up the contacts and a blank entry. Clara offered the phone to Yuri who quickly entered his number and saved the contact before handing it back. Clara him a quick text, a simple emoticon. “I’m meeting up with Mila later at a club. You can join us if you’re interested.”

“I spend enough time with her on the ice,” Yuri stated simply.

“Ha...Right, well...Thanks for the ride, Yuri. I’ll see you later.” She gave Yuri his spare helmet and went up to her apartment.

Clara kicked off her shoes upon walking through the door and slipping into her fuzzy slippers. She hung her keys on the hook by the door and placed her bag by the door to the water closet. Upon stepping into the kitchen, she started the coffee maker going and grabbed a protein bar from the box she kept next to the appliance. She then went to her bedroom and went to close the curtains, pausing to look at the street below. Yuri’s motorcycle was gone. She closed the curtains. She removed her clothes and bundled them under her arm. Clara dropped the wad of clothing into the hamper outside the water closet as she grabbed a fresh set of towels. She walked into the bathroom and started filling the tub. She eased herself into the steaming water and closed her eyes. The warmth sunk into her muscles, relaxing them and relieving her aches. She turned off the water once the tub was full enough and she took her time washing herself. Nothing like a hot bath after a long day of practice.

She sighed. A night in sounded really inviting, but Mila did have a point. Back in Chicago, her pool of friends was rather limited. Practically non existent when you took out her coach and the staff at the rink. Clara messaged her conditioner through her hair. Maybe she had put herself in a box without knowing. That was part of the reason she came to Russia, right? For a fresh start? Inspiration? Getting back to her roots? After everything settled down back in Chicago she found herself with an itch which she remedied with leaving her coach and packing her life up to move to the other side of the world.

Clara rinsed off and wrapped her hair up in a towel before wrapping the other around her body. She put her robe on and walked to the kitchen. She poured the coffee into her mug and picked up her phone. Her contact list was short as most of the numbers she needed were no longer needed. She hesitated, but hit call in the end.

The phone rang a few times before a groggy voice answered. “Who is it?”

“Hi Heather,” Clara said sheepishly. “Sorry it took so long to call.”

“Clara! No, no it’s fine. I’m sure the trip took a lot out of you.” Heather sounded much more awake now. “Today was your first day under Yakov, right? How’d it go?”

“Yeah… About that.”

“You better not be quitting. Not after this past season.”

“No, no. I’m not quitting,” she took a deep breath. “So as it turns out...Yakov isn’t my coach.”

“Excuse me? Did that grumpy old fart change his mind?”

“Kind of…? I mean he’s not my coach, but I do have one. I didn’t know about it until a few days ago.” She sipped her coffee.

“Who’s your coach then? Not many to pick from out of Saint Petersburg.”

“Victor.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Victor Nikiforov.” There was a pause.

“Well shit.” Heather muttered. There was silence again. “Well...if he’s your coach I’m sure you’ll win gold this year. Goddamn, Clara do you know how lucky you are?”

“I have a pretty good idea. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“I bet.” Heather sighed. “Clara, I want you to know that I’m still going to support you even if I’m not your coach anymore. There are no hard feelings at all. I just want you to skate your best.”

Clara’s throat tightened. “Thanks Heather.”

“Do me a favor.”

“Depends on the favor.”

“I want you to skate circles around them. Show them the Chicago grit.”

Clara chuckled. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will. Listen, I have to go. Next time we’ll just facetime. God knows what this going to do to my bill.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no. It was nice to hear from you. Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later.”

Clara put her phone down and took another sip of coffee. Heather’s favor echoed in her mind as she smiled as her doubt disappeared for the time being. She checked the time. She still had a few hours until she had to meet Mila at the club.


	5. Short Term Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

Clara stirred and groaned as sunlight leaked through the curtains and struck her face. The blanket pinned her to the mattress as she struggled to even wiggle a toe. Her eyes snapped open as she heard the frying pan in the kitchen. The smell of bacon filled the apartment. Her stomach churned in protest. She managed to roll over on her side and look at her phone. The light from the screen burnt her eyes as she squinted until they adjusted. It was nearly ten in the morning.

“Shit!” Clara swore as she sat up, only to brace herself as the room started spinning. She squeezed her eyes shut until the nauseating sensation faded. She threw off the covers. She was still in her dress from the night before and her leggings were still on. That was a good sign. She got up and stumbled over to the double doors and swung them open. Her legs gave out as the room started spinning again and she fell straight into the ottoman.

“Ah, good. You’re finally awake.”

A shiver ran through her spine as the words cut into her. Nope. She was dreaming. She kept her face buried in the cushioned furniture. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe if she just stayed put she’d wake up in her bed. Or she could just die. Death was always an option, right?

“How are you feeling?” The words were softer. When death didn’t come, Clara let out a groan and lifted her head to see Yuuri in her kitchen. Making breakfast. Why was Yuuri in her kitchen making breakfast? And why was Victor sitting at the table reading a book? Yuuri chuckled and helped her up and to the table. “Have a seat.” Clara held her head in her hands as she avoided eye contact. The room was still slowly spinning. Yuuri came back with a cup filled with a strange, pink concoction and placed it in front of her. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Clara nodded and took the glass. It smelt like grapefruit. She downed the drink, the thick, grainy texture nearly making her gag, but she managed. “Um...Can I…? What are you..?”

Victor flipped the page in his book, briefly glancing up at her. “Yurio called us over.” Clara furrowed her brow. “He had practice this morning. He didn’t want you to be left alone.”

Yuuri put a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of Clara as well as a cup of coffee. “From what he told us, you called him from the club for a ride. Apparently Mila and her friends tried showing you a good time.”

That she vaguely remembered. She sipped the coffee and bit into a piece of bacon. She had only just recently became of drinking age, at least by United States standards, and she hadn’t really had much of an opportunity to drink so she didn’t know her limits yet. This was embarrassing. She wanted to crawl back into bed and disappear. She finished her breakfast and felt physically better.

“I’m sorry about this,” Clara muttered. “I won’t make this a habit.”

Yuuri waved away her comment. “Don’t worry about it. Everybody has those nights.”

Victor smirked as his eyes glanced at his husband. “Yours sounds quite tame to some I’ve witnessed.”

A deep blush covered Yuuri’s face as he playfully shoved the Russian man. “You’re one to talk.”

Victor gave a lighthearted chuckle and closed his book. “We won’t worry about practice today. The rink time is nearly up anyway.” He tapped his chin. “Perhaps the dance studio will do today.”

“Honestly, Victor, give her a chance to recover,” Yuuri huffed.

Clara shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Just let me shower and finish my coffee.”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asked with concern.

“Yup.” She stood up.

Clara took a quick shower and got dressed in her active wear. She poured another cup of coffee in her thermos and grabbed a few protein bars. Yuuri finished the dishes and the three of them left for the dance studio.

“Your form is rather stiff,” Victor noted. “Have you taken dance classes?”

“Took two semesters of it in high school. It was more of a sampling of different styles,” Clara said.

Victor tapped his chin. “Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Perhaps Lilia would be willing to work with you. She’s been training Yurio for a couple of years now.”

“As a favor to Yakov,” Yuuri said pointedly. He smiled at her. “I’ll work with you. We can come here when we’re not scheduled for the ice.”

Clara nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

By the time Yuuri’s dance session was over Clara’s body throbbed and the joints in her feet creaked and burned. She rubbed her feet after changing her socks.

“Well, you picked up on the basics pretty quick,” Yuuri commented. “You’re still a bit stiff, but that should go away with practice.” Clara nodded and started putting on her shoes. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Well, I still have to figure out the music for my Free Program. I can do that while jogging.” She held back a yawn. Her hangover was gone now, but she her eyes still felt like they were going to drop out her skull at any moment. A jog could help then she’d look into getting on the ice at some point. Her drunken episode wasn’t going to set her back, she was already behind as it was. Barely a week in Saint Petersburg and just a few days with Victor as her coach and she was already slipping up. She had to show them she was worth his time. This move was worth it. Clara stood up. “I’ll see you at the rink in the morning.”

“Ok,” Victor said. “Don’t be late.”

Clara waved and left the studio. She put in her earbuds and started the music on her phone before starting the jog back to her apartment. Upon entering her home she checked her phone, having felt it vibrate during the run. Clara sharply inhaled as she saw a text from Yuri.

-I have private ice time tonight. If you need want to practice, let me know.-

Clara bit her lip, her heart pounding. She needed to practice. -Thanks for picking me up last night. You didn’t have to stay overnight.-

-It wasn’t a problem.-

Her face went red. -Sorry if I was any trouble.-

-You weren’t. Did you want to get ice time?-

-No it’s fine. Still recovering. Thanks for the offer.-

Clara put her phone on the charger and sat down on the chair in the living space. She removed her ponytail holder so her hair could have a chance to actually dry out. Only her second day in training and she missed practice because she was hungover. Not the best start, but as long as she kept her nose to the grindstone she could make up for lost time. She sighed. Story of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rink was void of the others as the early morning sun softly shone through the windows. One of the janitors had let her in since the rink wasn’t technically open yet. She did her stretches then put on her blades. She took off her jacket and left it with her guards and water bottle. She put on her headphones and started the music before gliding out onto the ice. She started with a few step sequences; serpentine, straight, circular. She practiced her jumps, trying to push her axel from a triple to a quad. She could land it, but was just short in finishing the final rotation. She took a break from jumps and worked on her spins. The chill of the rink barely touched her as she skated, her mind clearing as muscle memory took over.

Hard work is what got her this far and she took pride in that. Hard work was what was going to keep her going. Sure she slipped up the other night, but she wouldn’t let that happen again. She had to stay focused. Today she and Victor were going to start work on her Short Program. Today she was going to find out what the music was going to be for her Free Program. Whether it was what she had picked or what Victor had in mind.

“You’re here early.”

She put her headphones around her neck. “Good morning, Yakov.”

The old Russian man grunted and nodded in response. “You better not make it a habit of getting my skaters drunk. Yuri hasn’t been late for practice in years.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“Good, I don’t need any distractions. Vitya and Yuuri are bad enough as it is.”

“Yes, Sir,” Clara said. She started skating her figures again as the other skaters arrived. She skated over to the wall and took a sip of her water as Victor and Yuuri came in.

“Feeling better today?” Yuuri asked.

Clara nodded. “Much better.”

Yuuri smiled. “Glad to hear it.” He looked at her with concern. “How long have you been here?”

“Not long.”

“Huh. Ok then.”

Clara pulled up her song on her phone as Victor came over, casually giving his husband’s butt a squeeze. Yuuri playfully swatted his hand away. “I’m ready to hear what song you picked for me, Victor.”

The Russian man’s face went blank. “Ah. Well...How about we listen to your choice first?”

Clara pinched the bridge of her nose. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

Victor chuckled sheepishly. “I suppose I did. I’m sure whatever you’ve come up with will be great. Why don’t we give it a listen?” Clara took her headphones off of her neck and handed them over to Victor. He held one to his ear as she hit play. His eyes widened and a large smile spread across his face. That was a good sign, much better reaction from when she presented the music for her Short Program. “‘I Lived’. This is quite different from your other song in tone. What do you have in mind for the theme?”

“Life,” Clara stated.

Victor tapped his chin, thinking for a moment before giving a nod of approval. “We can work with that. We’ll start with working on the Short Program.” He took a notepad and a pencil from his bag. He started writing and after a few minutes he showed her the pad.

3A  
SpSq  
FLSp  
CSSp  
3S + 1Lo + 2S  
SeSt  
3Lz + 2Lz  
2S+1F  
CCoSp

Clara studied the outline. Plenty of spins and jumps. Those were her strengths, after all. Quite a few jumps in the second half, though, Heather never put that many in their programs. With enough practice she was sure she would be fine. “Looks good to me.”

“I noticed that you have a similar stamina to Yuuri, so the jump combinations in the later half shouldn’t be a problem for you. We can always adjust if needed.”

Clara nodded. “Of course.”

“Let’s get started then.”


	6. Private Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

April became May and June soon followed. Soon enough, Clara found herself jogging beside her two coaches and their dog on the beach. Bella ran beside her. Her tail wagging happily and tongue flapping without a care in the world. Bella had taken a liking to Clara, tackling her to the floor with affection with their first few meetings. Now Clara braced herself and even found herself inviting the gesture whenever she found herself at Victor and Yuuri’s apartment or they were over at hers. The former was more frequent as their apartment was much larger. Hers tended to get a little cramped, especially when Yuri joined in. Which was often.

Clara slowed to a stop as she noticed that Yuuri and Victor had fallen a fair distance behind her. She knelt down and rubbed Bella’s ears. “Your dads are getting old aren’t they?” She teased. “Maybe I should take it easy on them during our runs.” Bella barked and licked Clara’s face, knocking her over into the sand. Clara chuckled. She took off her shoes and socks and ran into the water. The cool water felt refreshing against her skin. Bella bounded in behind her, kicking up sand and splashing her with the salty water. “You stinker.”

“Looks like you’re having fun,” Yuuri chuckled as he and Victor caught up. He removed his own shoes and socks, tucking his glasses into his shoes. “I think we’ve ran enough today, Victor.” He stepped into the water and smiled when Victor joined them.

Clara smirked as she kicked water at them. Yuuri gasped and Victor gave a shout out of surprise. Bella barked and ran around them as a battle broke out. Clara laughed and tried to run away from the watery onslaught of her coaches. Her foot dug too deep into the wet sand and she fell into the cool, salty water. She spat out the water as she got to her knees. The salty water stung her eyes as it clung to her eyelashes. She wiped away the water as Bella ran up and started licking her furiously.

“Easy girl,” Clara sputtered as she laughed. She gently pushed Bella off of her and managed to get back onto her feet. She shivered as the wind picked up. Saint PEtersburg summers were much milder than what she was used too. Chicago would have easily had two or three heat waves by now, but the temperature was always comfortable which made her morning runs much more appealing. Clara looked over to Victor and Yuuri who were partially submerged in the ocean and exchanging a series of chuckles and salty kisses. She rolled her eyes and looked to Bella. “Think we should leave them?” Bella barked happily. Clara chuckled. “Let's find a water fountain then.” She walked out the the water and picked up her shoes.

Sand clung to her feet, falling off in moist clumps as they grew too massive to keep a grip on her skin. Bella was going to need a bath once they got back to the apartment. Clara was debating whether or not she was going to stick around for such an endeavor. She found a drinking fountain and took a few mouthfuls of cold water. She looked out at the ocean and brushed a wet lock of hair behind her ear.

“Taking up swimming?” Yuri asked as he jogged up.

“Just having a bit of fun,” Clara said. “It’s nice to get away from the rink for a day.”

Yuri nodded and got a drink for himself. “With how hard you’ve been working, I’d say you deserve a little break. You arrive before anybody else and stay late.”

“I am going for gold.”

Yuri rubbed his neck and huffed. He seemed nervous as he looked to the ocean before looking to her again. “I was wondering if you could help me with my triple axel. It’s not as clean as I want it to be. I’ve been working on it for a while in my private sessions, but I can’t seem to get it.”

Clara felt her heart pounding. “Uh.”

“You could share the rink with me in exchange. If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

“No. No. I’d be happy to help.” She rubbed her neck, wiping away the water that trickled down from her wet braid. “When did you want to start?”

“Tonight? I have it booked at six for an hour.”

Clara nodded. “Tonight’s fine. I can meet you at the rink.”

Yuri gave a small smile. “Alright then.”

Yuri continued his run while Clara returned to Yuuri and Victor with Bella at her side. They dropped her off at her apartment and took Bella home for a bath. Clara took a shower, being sure to get any remnants of sand out of her hair. She made herself a quick lunch then killed more time making a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Baking was just as therapeutic as skating. The smell of baking cookies filled her apartment and she sat in the living room, thumbing through one of her grandfather’s recipe journals. The contents were a jumble of Russian and English. Clara found herself able to read the Russian script much easier now after spending the past months being surrounded by it. She even found herself talking to Yuri and Mila in Russian more often than when she first moved to the city.

The timer went off on her phone and she took the cookies out of the oven. She let them cool for a few moments before moving them to the cooling rack, taking a few for herself as a treat. Around five-fifteen she packed up some of the cookies in a container and put it in her backpack. She grabbed her bike and wheeled it out of the front door, locking the door behind her. The bike ride was uneventful, she had finally gotten used to biking in the streets. She chained her bike up at the entrance and she headed into the rink. She was a little early, but that was expected of her by now. Arrive early and stay late.

Yuri leaning against the wall on his phone. He looked up, his green eyes peeking through his loose, blond hair. He briefly smiled and put his phone on the bench. “I knew you’d be early.”

“I’m always early,” Clara stated. She placed her bag down and took the contain of cookies off of her skates. “I made some cookies earlier.”

“I thought you didn’t like sweets,” Yuri questioned.

“I love them, that’s why I can’t have them around all the time,” Clara said. “I worked in a bakery for years. It’d be a little weird if I didn’t like sweets.”

Yuri nodded. He pulled back his hair. He took one of the cookies and took a bite. His eyes widened and he quickly finished the treat. “Vkusno.”

Clara chuckled. “Glad you like it.”

They did their stretches and warmed up. Clara docked her phone on the small speaker station so they could listen to music during their time on the ice. Yuri stood in the center of the rink. The sun cast him in a golden light that made her heart skip a beat. Clara skated over.

“So how about you show me your axel first,” she suggested. “We can figure out what to do from there.”

“Right.” Yuri skated to build momentum before kicking off into the jump.

Clara watched closely, but couldn’t really see anything wrong with it. Yuri gave a few more examples upon her request, but she couldn’t find anything immediately wrong with it. She did a few triples. Maybe that would help? They continued to meet for the next few weeks. Working on Yuri’s axel. He offered to help her with her salchow in return. After the session they would get a quick meal before going their separate ways for the night.

“Your jumps seem fine to me. It doesn’t look like much has changed judging from the video we’ve been taking,” Clara said. “I’m not sure how I can really help you. I mean you’ve been professionally trained for much longer than I have been. Plus with your ballet training your form and expression are top notch.” Her heart was racing again. Why? “Why did you even ask me?” Her self-doubt escaping. “I’m sure Mila or Victor would be more help… I’m not really qualified to help somebody like you...”

“Somebody like me?” He raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

Clara bit her lip. “I mean, I just barely made into the Grand Prix last season and I barely won silver. You...You’ve already won several gold medals.” She avoided his eyes and hugged herself. “Why would you want my help?”

Yuri ran his hands through his hair and groaned. “I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t want your help. I wanted to spend time with you, but with our practice schedules it’s almost impossible if we’re not with Vitya and Yuuri.” He skated closer and she felt her face turn red. “Do you remember when you went clubbing with Mila?” She couldn’t find words right now so she just nodded. What was going on? Why was he acting like this? “You called for me to pick you up because you had been drinking.” Was he blushing? “You asked me to stay with you that night.”

Clara blinked, tears running down her face. “I did?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his neck. “You clung to my coat even after I sat on the bed beside you. You have an iron grip even in your sleep.”

Clara buried her face in her hands. “Oh god… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Yuri said. “I like spending time with you.”

“Did you seriously ask me here just to tell me you like hanging out with me?”

“Well I do. Ok?” He backed off, his voice nearly becoming a shout. He ran his hand through his hair again. “The qualifying competitions are coming up soon and I just thought we’re only going to get more involved in training. I thought this made the most sense.” He sighed. “I probably should have been more straightforward.”

Clara took a deep breath to calm herself down. Maybe she was just overreacting. Could be her nerves again. She glided over to Yuri. “Want to get something to eat? I think I’ve had enough practice for tonight.”

Yuri smiled. “Sounds good.”


	7. Sweet Home Chicago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Skate America on the horizon, Clara, Victor, and Yuuri find themselves arriving in Chicago and finding themselves seeing a glimpse into Clara's foundation as a skater.
> 
> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

“Ah! They’ve been posted!” Victor exclaimed while waving his phone. “Clara! Yuuri!”

“We’re right here Victor,” Yuuri stated. “No need to shout.” Clara let go of the barr and put her out stretched foot down. Victor rushed over, his face beaming. He caught his breath and pulled up the website. “Lets see. Oh wow! Clara, you’re qualifying competitions are Skate America and Trophee de France.” His eyes sparkled. “You get to skate in Chicago. Is that exciting?”

Exciting wasn’t how she’d like to put it. Nerve-wracking would be more accurate. Heather probably already knew and if she knew, everybody else did as well. Clara had hardly talked to anybody back in Chicago the past few months, mostly because of the time difference but also because she found it painfully awkward. Plus they were all busy with their own lives. “Y-yeah. Super exciting.”

Yuuri gently touched Clara’s shoulder and she felt herself relax a bit. “It’s going to be fine. You’ve been working hard and your programs are fairly polished. Now it’s just tweaking everything so you peak at the final. You’ll blow them all away, you’ll see.”

“It’s been years since we’ve been in America,” Victor rambled happily. “Clara you have to take us sightseeing.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Clara said. “I never did much sightseeing.”

“What? You lived there.” Victor looked at her with confusion.

“I was training,” Clara stated. “Last thing I wanted to do was walk around the city after practicing all day.”

“All the more reason to go,” Victor said happily. “I heard they have cat cafes. We should go to one.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I thought you left on good terms,” Yuri stated.

Clara scratched Tora’s ear, the fat orange tabby purred loudly as he laid on her lap. Out of Yuri’s three cats, Tora was the one she liked most. The feeling was mutual as Tora only really snuggled with her. Yuri was a little jealous, but he tried not to show it. “I did, but it’s still awkward. Wish you could come along.”

“Yakov won’t allow it, trust me. He’s kept me on a pretty tight leash the past few years when it comes to traveling outside of competing.” He handed her a cup of tea and sat beside her on the couch. “We’ll meet up in Paris and I’m sure Victor will let you tag along to Moscow.”

“But what if…”

Yuri held up his hand and frowned. “Stop. None of that.” Clara sighed and sipped her tea. “You’ve earned your spot, Clara. Show them why.”

“You’ll watch, right?”

Yuri sipped his tea. “Of course. Then we’ll meet up in Paris.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took two planes to get back to Chicago. For both they sat in first class. Apparently Victor found the seats in coach unbearable. Not that she minded, the plush reclining seats made much easier to get some form of sleep. She was still groggy when they landed at O’Hare. The airport was as busy as ever, but they retrieved their luggage in a timely manner and made their way out of the terminal.

“Clara!” Two girls, eight and nine years in age, tackled her with hugs, nearly knocking her over. “Did you bring us presents?” They asked in unison.

“Sorry, I didn’t,” Clara said sheepishly.

“Krystal. Nikki. Let her breathe,” Heather said sternly. She was a bright young woman, barely in her forties. Or that’s what she wanted people to think. Her short, blue hair and star tattoos on her neck made others assume her age was much younger than what it really was. She liked it that way. Heather tightly embraced her. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks Heather,” Clara smiled. “Is Tyrone here?”

“He’s circling around.” Heather’s eyes sharpened as she looked to Yuuri and Victor. Yuuri shivered, nervous. “As for you two.” She offered out her hand. “Thank you for looking after her. I’ve been worried sick. She hardly ever calls and her social media skills are severely lacking for somebody her age.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Yuuri said as he politely shook Heather’s hand. “We’ll make sure she calls more often if you’d like.”

“She works really hard. I swear she spends more time on the ice then anything else,” Victor chuckled.

“Yeah, that sounds like her.” Clara bit her lip and looked away as Heather shot her a glare.

“Clara, let’s go get pizza!” Krystal said. “Mom said we can get some when you came in.”

“Yeah! Aren’t you hungry?” Nikki asked.

Clara smiled. “Yeah. A little.”

A mini van pulled up and the horn blared. “That’s Tyrone.” Heather grabbed some of the luggage and loaded it into the back of the vehicle. “Clara, you can take the front seat. You two,” she pointed to Victor and Yuuri. “You’re with me in the back row.”

“There’s my girl,” Tyrone greeted as Clara hopped into the front seat. He handed her a travel mug. “Picked this up for you on the way. Should still be warm.”

“Yeeeeeeeessssss.” She took a mouthful of coffee. “An eight hour flight and all I could get is soda.”

“Ew gross,” Tyrone said as he checked the mirror. Everybody was strapped in and the road was clear. He turned on the signal and joined the traffic.

“I know right?” Clara sipped the coffee and looked out the window. “How’s school?”

“It’s rough, but I’m almost done. I’ve managed to get into a few small shows. Being a stagehand is finally paying off. How’s Russia?”

“They don’t have heatwaves. Summer barely got to the mid-eighties.”

“Shit man, that’s awesome.”

“Oh and salt water up the nose burns like hell.”

Tyrone chuckled. “I bet.”

The atmosphere in the back as a bit more tense. Heather had wedged herself between the two men, taking turns giving them the side eye.

“So,” she started, causing the two men to tense up. “Has she been eating?”

“Uh,” Yuuri stumbled. “She has dinner with us regularly, so…”

Heather shook her head and huffed. “Listen, she doesn’t eat when she’s nervous or under a lot of stress. She get hyperfocused and all she does is skate. Took me months to get her to just eat a protein bar when she’s like that.”

Victor blinked. “Really?”

“Listen, I’ve was her coach from she was seventeen to she flew to the other side of the world to train,” Heather said sternly. “She’s basically my daughter, so I know these things.”

Yuuri nodded. “Is there anything we should know?”

Heather paused. While she would have liked to divulge all her knowledge about her former student, she still had to respect Clara’s boundaries. “She’s taking you sightseeing, right?”

“Yes,” Victor said, confused.

“Just follow her,” Heather stated.

They arrived at the hosting hotel within an hour, which was pretty decent with how congested the city was. Tyrone, Heather and her girls followed the three skaters up to their rooms. Clara had her own, though there was a door connecting the two suites. The Grand Prix series hardly ever had her placed in Chicago, despite training there for years. It was odd to be staying in a hotel rather than in her and Tyrone’s old apartment. Or Heather’s for that matter.

“This place sure is swanky,” Tyrone joked.

“Being a world class skater has it’s perks,” Clara chuckled. She turned on her phone. She had a few messages from Yuri. One wishing her safe travels then another with a video of Tora getting into the cookie jar again. She looked out at the city. “Were you able to find a roommate?”

“Zoey moved in,” Tyrone said.

“Well she practically lived there already,” Clara stated.

“Yeah yeah. Just she’s paying half the rent now. I’m thinking about proposing once we graduate.”

Clara blinked. “Wow, really?”

“Yeah,” Tyrone beamed. “We’re a great team and we make each other happy.”

Clara nodded and smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. What about you? I saw you smiling at your phone.”

“Oh Yuri just sent me a video of one of his cats trying to steal cookies,” she chuckled and showed him her phone “Tora’s a trouble maker.”

Tyrone grinned. “Yuri?”

“We’re rink mates, Ty.” Clara huffed.

“Suuure you are.” Tyrone wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh my god. Stop that.” She gave him a playful shove.

Tyrone chuckled. “I’m glad you’re making friends, Clara. I was worried, you're quite the hermit.”

“I’ve been working on that.”

They jumped as Victor came through the door. “Clara, we’re ready to get pizza. Let's go.”

“I have to get going,” Tyrone stated. “I’ll see you later.”


	8. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri learn more about their student with a trip to her hometown.
> 
> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

Yuuri stirred beside Victor as the dull chime of an alarm came through the wall. Victor’s eyes fluttered open but he made no effort to move as to not disturb the sleeping beauty beside him. The sun was barely shining through the overcast sky. He glanced at the alarm clock. It was only seven in the morning. Apparently his new student did run on coffee with being up this early. Perhaps being back home had some effect on her. She certainly seemed different, especially after the warm welcome she had received from everybody at the airport. Her eyes had hardened with determination, she seemed much more focused. Much more so than what she was in Russia. Perhaps it was the upcoming competition. Yuuri stirred again, snuggling closer before opening his eyes.

“Morning,” he whispered, sleep clinging to his breath.

“Morning,” Victor ran his fingers through Yuuri’s jet black hair as he kissed his forehead.

“Did she even get any sleep?” Yuuri’s words were slurred. “I swear she has coffee instead of blood.”

“We still have time, get some more sleep,” Victor said softly. “The train isn’t until nine-thirty.”

Yuuri nuzzled his husband, wrapped his arms around him. “Which means she’ll have us there by nine. I still need to shower.”

“We can share,” Victor said simply but with a sensual edge to his tone. “Saves on time and water.”

“Hm... I’m not sure about that. Our shared showers seem to take longer.”

“I like to be thorough.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Yuuri snarked.

“Oh you know what helps me sleep at night,” Victor said sensually as he caressed Yuuri’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “It was quite exciting to keep quiet last night.” Yuuri blushed lightly as he leaned his head into Victor’s touch.

They said nothing and just enjoyed each other’s company in the comfort of their hotel room. The sounds of the city were faint outside the window. They heard Clara’s shower start. They would meet her for breakfast so they still had time.

Yuuri sighed and kissed Victor’s lips before sitting up. The linens fell from his bare body, now dotted with the aftermath of Victor’s affections. Victor sat up and wrapped his arms around him. “Feels weird being here again.”

“The Grand Prix isn’t the only competition.”

“I know.” Yuuri fidgeted. “Victor, I’ve been thinking.”

“What about?”

“This season being my last one.” Silence fell over the room. Yuuri felt himself relax when Victor stroked his hair. “I think maybe we should move onto the next chapter of our life together.”

“You miss having me on the ice?” Victor teased as he nuzzled his husband’s neck. “Honestly, you’re so greedy.”

Yuuri chuckled. “I’m serious, Victor.”

“What do you have in mind with this next chapter?”

“Well, we’ll continue to coach Clara as long as she’ll have us. Maybe we can take on a few more students.”

Victor nodded, planting a soft kiss on his husband’s neck. “What else?”

Yuuri sharply inhaled and slowly released his breath. “What would you think about us adding to the family? And I don’t mean another dog.”

Victor blinked. “Kids?” A warmth washed forth inside him as the thought settled in his mind. He squeezed Yuuri tight, sharing this sensation through their bare skin. “I’d love to.”

Yuuri smiled. “We can look into it more once we get back home. For now we’ll focus on Clara.”

Victor nodded in agreement. The two of them shared a shower, of which they did in a timely manner for once. Yuuri was much too jetlagged to respond to Victor’s attempts to seduce him properly. They met Clara for breakfast in one of the dining halls. She was already refilling the paper cup from the freshly brewed pot. She seemed to have had a fairly decent breakfast, Yuuri noted. He saw a lot of himself in Clara and he was interested in learning more about her. Which is why they had come to the city earlier than the other skaters. Yuuri hoped some time away from the ice would help. She was always too focused on at the rink and at the dance studio to talk about anything else. Heather’s reluctance to divulge details only made him more curious about this young woman who dropped everything to come to train in Russia. Perhaps Victor shared the same curiosity and that was what made him interested in her to begin with.

After they were done with breakfast they caught a taxi to Ogilvie Transportation Center, riding past Millennium Park along the way. Clara stopped in the nearby pharmacy and bought a bouquet of flowers before they went into the station. People were milling about in the various shops and in the food court. Others were rushing to catch a train or running to grab a cab outside. Yuuri checked his watch, they still had about twenty minutes until the train left. He and Victor followed her to the second floor, passing by the screens with the departing and arrival times. The second floor had the door to the terminals along with some small shops and a bar. Victor went and bought a bucket of caramel corn from one of the stores while Clara purchased their tickets. She insisted on buying them at the station, apparently there was an extra charge to purchase them on the train.

“Yuuri, you have to try this popcorn,” Victor said while enthusiastically handing him a small plastic cup with a sampling of caramel corn.

“Victor, it’s too early for sweets,” Yuuri stated. “I’ll have some from the bucket you bought later.”

Victor huffed. “Fine.” He ate the sample and threw away the cup.

“We’re train nine,” Clara stated as she came back with the tickets. “We should hurry. It's pretty busy today.”

They followed her into the terminals, the space echoing with chatter and the wind blowing through the station. They sat on the main floor the car. Victor and Yuuri beside each other while Clara sat across from them. Yuuri noted that she was wearing makeup, a natural look but still noticeable. The mascara and lipstick tipped him off. Her blue eyes were cloudy, as if she weren't fully there. Lost in her own thoughts.

“So how far are we going?” Victor inquired.

“Pretty far. It's about an and hour and a half out,” Clara said simply.

“Wow.” Victor gasped. “I thought you were from Chicago.”

Clara shrugged. “It’s easier to say that when you travel abroad. Easier frame of reference. Plus did live in the city until I moved to Russia.”

Victor nodded and silence fell between them. Yuuri didn't press for conversation with her. The way she was biting her lip and fidgeting with the flowers was enough to tell him that she wasn't up for it. He found himself dozing off, the motions of the train rocking him to sleep. Victor gently shook him awake when they were approaching their stop.

They stepped off the train and Yuuri found himself transported to another world. One of small shops and small brick buildings that stood parallel to the tracks.

“What an adorable little town,” Victor said as he held out his phone and snapped a picture. “Where's the bus stop?”

“There’s isn't one,” Clara said simply. “I have a vehicle lined up, but we’ll need to walk a bit first.”

“Must be a small town if there isn’t a bus,” Victor commented as he and Yuuri followed Clara’s lead.

They crossed the busy road that ran alongside the tracks and started walking. The warm colored leaves swirled across the sidewalk in the chilled October air. The sun was out now which helped. Victor held Yuuri’s hand as they walked. They passed by a Dairy Queen, then a small cluster of tiny apartment buildings, Clara seemed to hesitate when they came to a crosswalk by a gas station. They ran across the road, taking Clara’s lead. Victor found it amusing that she would run even if she had the right of way. Soon a small shopping strip came up and Clara lead them to a bakery that was nestled between a dollar store and a thrift store. Clara paused and glanced at them before opening the door.

A bell chimed as they crossed the threshold into a cozy venue. Glass displays and counter tops were expertly filled with sweet treats and confections separated the rest of the space from the kitchen. Tables covered in local wares spotted the back before giving way to a small seating space. The establishment was empty from customers besides them and the commotion in the kitchen.

“Be right there!” Somebody called from the back. “Feel free to look around!”

Victor had no trouble taking the invitation and started browsing the tables of sweets and gift baskets. Yuuri followed beside him, still holding his hand. He glanced back at Clara, who seemed to be frozen in place, the plastic wrapping of the bouquet of flowers crinkled in her grip. He looked to Victor when he received a gentle nudge. His husband motioned to a small section of the wall that was covered in newspaper clippings and many photos. The older ones were from the founding of the business, back from the mid-fifties. Color gradually came into the photos as they moved forward in time. Where the clippings became flyers and newsletters from the local ice house with the occasional local news paper article thrown in. The pictures were of Clara on the ice, all varying in age, but stopping around the time she was thirteen. That’s when it stopped.

“Clara?!” Yuuri jumped and looked back to the counter. A woman about his sister’s age came out from the kitchen. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun and her apron was covered in flour and smears of batter. She pulled down her glasses from atop her head and beamed. Yuuri swore she vaulted the counter with how quickly she moved. “You should have just come in back.”

“I brought company so I thought it was best to wait out here. Sounded like you were busy.”

“Nah, just a small cupcake order. These your friends?” She narrowed her eyes as she inspected the two men.

“They’re my coaches,” Clara said. “Dez, this is Victor and Yuuri. Victor, Yuuri, this is Dez.”

Dez shook their hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“The pleasure is ours,” Victor said. “Do you own this bakery? It’s quite charming.”

“Part owner. Sam,” she motioned to the back, “and I split the cost. I couldn’t stand to see this place close up so we took the opportunity when it came.” Dez smiled at Clara. “Haven’t changed much, promise.”

“Cupcakes are new.”

Dez shrugged. “People love cupcakes. Helps keep the doors open. So what brings you to our sleepy little town?”

“Skate America is in a few days, we came early,” Yuuri said.

“That time of year already?” Dez chuckled. “I guess luck was on your side. Did you want some coffee before you guys head out? We just got a new espresso machine.”

“Coffee sounds nice,” Victor said. He looked to his husband with puppy-dog eyes. “Perhaps we have time for a treat as well.” Yuuri shrugged and sighed, nodding in defeat. How could he say no to that face?

“I’ve got just the thing,” Dez’s dark brown eyes sparkled as she hurried off to the back. The three of them grabbed a table. Clara looked a bit more relaxed now, Yuuri noted.

“You’re quite the local celebrity, aren’t you Clara?” Victor asked.

Clara blushed. “I wouldn’t say that. Poppo was just a very proud man.”

“He had every right to be. You basically taught yourself how to skate on that pond out back.” Dez stated as she came up with a cardboard platter and set it on the table. A Napoleon cake, layers of puff pastry and homemade custard whipped topping that was covered in a flakey crumble and careful decoration of blackberries, strawberries, and blueberries. “Here you go. Made this this morning. I’m trying out a new method for the custard.”

Victor’s eyes sparkled as he beamed. “Wow! Napoleon cake.”

Dez chuckled. “I know these were only for special occasions, but I think this counts.”

“Special occasions?” Yuuri inquired.

“Arti would only make these for special occasions. Birthdays, holidays, whenever Clara placed in a competition or did well in school.” Dez started carefully cutting pieces and placing them on the plates she had brought out with her. “When Sam said you were coming into town, I knew I had to make this.”

“But I haven’t won anything yet,” Clara stated. Though she would be lying if she said she didn’t want a piece. While Dez did respect her late grandfather’s legacy and recipes, she always added her own flair to the recipes. And they were always delicious.

“So? You’re visiting, I think that counts for something.” Dez smiled. “It’s been a rough year, treat yourself.” She offered each of them a fork. “Now enjoy and I’ll get your coffee.” Dez turned on her heel and headed back behind the counter.

Once they had finished their share of the Napoleon cake and finished their coffee Sam came out from the back to give Clara the keys to her car. They had full use of it during their time in town, but Clara didn’t plan on staying all day. She had to still get her practice in even if she did enjoy her time amongst familiar faces. Dez gave them a bag of sweets and cookies, as she always did when old friends would come by. Arti used to do the same when he ran the place. Dez was just as passionate about the small business as her late boss, she had to be since she had been running it for several years now.

They made a quick stop in the thrift store next door upon Victor’s request. Clara found herself buying a tiger hat. It reminded her of Yuri and the thought of him wearing it amused all three of them. Whether or not the punk would actually wear it was a whole other question.

“Where to next?” Victor asked the subtle charm of the area was taking hold on him. He and Yuuri only ever stuck to the hosting cities when they traveled for competition. This was a pleasant change of pace.

Clara bit her lip but took a deep breath and looked at them. “To see Poppo.”

Yuuri blinked, but said nothing as they got into the car. Clara was silent as she drove them to a nearby cemetery. He suddenly felt underdressed as they walked through the rows of headstones. Everybody was much more spread out than they were in Japan. Clara stopped in front of a pair of headstones. Yuuri held Victor’s hand as they kept a short distance between them and their student. The headstones were clean and there were frostbitten flowers resting in the grass. Somebody was here recently.

Clara’s breath caught. “Sorry I’m late, Poppo.” Her voice was soft but crackled with emotion. She took a shaking breath and forced a more cheerful tone. “Saint Petersburg is just as beautiful as you told me it was. I’ve made some friends and my new coaches are great. I might be able to win gold this year thanks to them.”

Yuuri squeezed Victor’s hand. He was unsure of what to do in such a situation. He didn’t want to overstep any unspoken boundary. Besides the morning of Clara’s hangover, he had never seen her so vulnerable.

Victor watched on with a soft expression. When she bought the flowers he had an inkling of what their purpose was. They were for somebody special as one just doesn’t buy flowers then ride a train for nearly two hours for no reason.

Clara knelt down and placed down her flowers. “These two are Victor and Yuuri. They’re my coaches and they’ve been great. I think you’d like them. They’ve made me feel at home in Saint Petersburg.” Yuuri’s breath caught as his eyes widened. Victor covered his mouth as he closed his eyes. Clara paused. “I miss you,” her voice cracked. “I’m sorry I didn’t win gold like I promised, but I’ll do it this year and just not at the Grand Prix Final.” She curled her fingers into fists. “I’m going to make all our hard work pay off. So...So please watch over me! Watch me take gold!”

She turned to Victor and Yuuri, tears cascading down her face causing her mascara to run. Yuuri blinked back his own as Victor’s hand broke from his as he opened his arms to Clara. Clara stared at him but then found herself running into his embrace. She buried her face into his coat as his warm embrace enveloped her. Yuuri joined and Clara clung to the both of them. They just stood by her as she allowed her tears to flow.

In nearly a year she didn’t allow herself to cry like this. Not even at the banquet when she got the news. Not even during the funeral or what she had to settle afterward. But now she needed to move forward and that meant she couldn’t hold anything back or bottled up. She dropped her arms and stepped out of the group hug. Victor offered her a tissue from the pocket pack he kept with him. She nodded in thanks and took a few to dry her tears and attempt to make her make up more presentable.

Victor wiped away a tear of his own and gently smiled. “I suppose we have to win gold now. With such a bold promise.” He caressed Clara’s head and pulled her into place a gentle kiss atop her head.

Clara let out a light laugh. “I guess so.”


	9. Collision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many rewrites for this one, but I did it. \o/  
> [ Music for Clara's Short Program](https://youtu.be/bs2VL_HYG9Y?list=PLkBFn4PBGd1W57VPPiqrRJs6xQ0PA4Tut)
> 
> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

“You’re too focused,” Victor critiqued. “Your step sequences are too stiff and you look angry while you're skating.” 

“Right...” Clara caught her breath as she leaned onto the barrier. Like this was the time to lose focus? This was her first competition since last season and on her home turf on top of that. She took a drink from her water bottle.

Victor tapped his chin, studying her face. He expected her to be much more relaxed after their trip to the northwestern suburbs the previous day, but that didn’t seem to be the case at all. She seemed much more determined, which was fine, but it was beginning to make her performance more robotic. The music and poetry were struggling to come through. He closed his eyes to think. He had learned so much about her within these past few days than he ever would have thought. Though, it’s not like he moved in with her. She came to them and she kept them at an arm's length. Aside from a couple instances, he was rarely allowed into her space. Whether it be emotionally or physically. Everything was about skating with her. He opened his eyes. Perhaps that’s where he needed to start. Skating for him was about entertainment, of course there was his love for the sport, but making his audience entranced with his performances was always his top priority. Yuuri’s love for skating came from his love of dancing, while he was an anxious mess at times he loved performing on the ice. But what was it to Clara? He thought back to the bakery with the timeline of her early skating years. A bright, young thing with a smile in her eyes as she flew across the ice. Now that he thought about it, he’d hardly seen that look in her eyes in the months they’ve been working together. What had happened?

He looked out at the ice to see her practicing her jumps, mostly the spread eagle into an axel. She was fairly consistent with it in practice, but a little extra practice never hurt. Victor sighed. She landed, but she was too stiff. Her technical score would be fine, but her performance was going to suffer at this rate.

“What are you thinking about?” Yuuri came up with two cups of tea, offering him one.

“Clara’s performance,” Victor said. “She’s much too stiff.” Yuuri nodded, he had noticed too. It was hard not too. “I think I have to shatter her.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure, Victor.”

Victor sipped his beverage. His husband might have had a point. Unlike other skaters, Clara seemed to have a heart of stone rather of glass. He furrowed his brow. There had to be something he could do as her coach. “What do you suggest?”

“Have you tried kissing her?” Yuuri suggested with a teasing tone.

Victor cortled. “I don’t think she’ll respond well to that. She might punch me.”

“Probably,” Yuuri sipped his drink. “We could just talk to her.”

Victor nodded. That made the most sense, now that he thought about it. But with things as they were the best he would probably get out of her was short, curt answers. He couldn’t work with that. Not to get the performance he saw glistening under the surface. His ears twitched as he heard Clara swear in Russian as she fell to the ice. “That’s enough practice for today!” he called.

“I’m fine!” Clara retorted as she got back on her blades. The other skaters gave a quick glance before going about their business. She picked her momentum up again and went into her triple lutz-double lutz combo. She followed it up with the triple salchow-single loop combo, only to fail the loop. She cursed internally.

“Clara!” Victor’s voice echoed through the rink. Clara looked to her coach, meeting his icy glare with one of fire. Victor furrowed his brow and she conceded. She voided his gaze while she skated back, wiped off her blades and put on their guards. She then changed into her gym shoes. Victor was the one to break the silence as they left the rink and were in the elevator on the way back to their rooms. “How to expect to even place with a performance like that?” He didn’t look at her, looking at the light move across the top of the box as they went up the floors. His tone was cold and dug into her like icy daggers.

Clara clenched her jaw. Where was this coming from? It wasn’t uncommon for a skater to land a jump they failed in practice. She’d done it several times. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “It’s your choreography,” she stated.

Victor’s eyebrow twitched in response to the low blow to his pride. “I’ve won gold with my choreography, Clara. Yuuri has as well as Yurio.”

“Then I guess it’s not an issue,” Clara retorted. The doors opened and Clara marched out of the car as soon as the doors opened enough to allow it. The tension followed as Victor came out behind her. She hurried to her room and closed the door behind her, practically slamming it. She then made sure the door connecting the two suites was locked from her side.

She dropped her bag on the bed and pulled out her phone. She huffed and pulled up facetime. The app rang as it put her call through.

“Yeah…?” Yuri’s grunted.

Crap. It must have been nearly eleven at night over there. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

Yuri ran his other hand through his hair and yawned. “Just started dozing off, don’t worry about it.”

“How’s practice going?”

“It’s fine. Yakov is pushing harder, but that’s normal when the Grand Prix series starts. How’s Chicago?”

“It’s...It’s fine.” She fell back on the bed, keeping her phone in front of her. “I went home yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“We visited the bakery and paid respects to Poppo. Dez sent us back with a whole bag of pastries. I ended up giving them to Heather. There’s no way I can eat all that.” She smiled, trying to hold back her tears. Wasn’t the trip home supposed to help? Giving her closer? Knowing everything was fine? The events in the cemetery came to mind again. Why’d she have to make that promise? Why’d she have to say it out loud? And in front of Victor and Yuuri? She let her emotions get the best of her.

“How’d your practice go?”

“It was...rough. I think I’m still getting over the jetlag. I should be fine tomorrow. The women’s singles aren’t until the afternoon.” Victor’s words echoed in her head. She covered her eyes with her arm. The tears were breaking through. “I should let you sleep.”

“It’s barely been five minutes,” Yuri stated. “Look at me.” Clara removed her arm from her face. Tears gathered on her lashes. “I know the pressure is a lot, but you made it to the Final before. You can do it again. Don’t let one bad practice ruin it.” His tone was stern, but not angry. He grinned. “Show them what you’ve shown me in our sessions.”

Clara wiped away her tears. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask. Don’t you dare half-ass it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good.” Yuri yawned, his eyes growing heavy.

“Good night, Yuri,” Clara said. Yuri gave a tired nod and the call ended. She sighed and let her outstretched arm rest on the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following day started with a few hours of practice in the morning and was followed by one final fitting before the event started. The men’s singles were the first event of the day so she had time to perfect her makeup and warm up.

“Glad you could join us, Clara,” Minka, the skater from Poland, stated flatly. “I’m surprised they let you participate with that disappearing act you pulled last year. If you’re not going to take this seriously, then you best just return to your vacation.”

Clara clenched her fists. Maybe the fact that Victor was in the middle of braiding her hair for what seemed to be the hundredth time was a good thing. Minka had a very punchable face after all. “Glad to be here, Minka. Good luck out there.”

Minka scoffed and walked off. The ladies’ line up for Skate America consisted of five other skaters besides her. Minka Kowalski of Poland was one of them. She was only a year older than Clara, but had been competitive for far longer. Apparently she took Clara’s sudden entry into the senior division then sudden disappearance as a personal insult. She was one of the first to react in the media when Clara had to return home. Sara Crispino of Italy was one of the older skaters, nearing the end of eligibility for the competition. She was a friend of Mila’s as well as both of her coaches. Clara had barely snagged the silver medal from her last year at the final. Xanti Sousa of Brazil was the newest competitor in the senior division, being only fifteen, Clara didn’t know much about her but judging by the buzz around the event she was certainly a favorite. Then there was Farah Penzik from Israel and Jetta Aalto of Finland. They were on the younger end, being seventeen and nineteen respectfully.

Clara huffed as Victor started over on her braid. She was last today, which meant she was first tomorrow. She hated being both. Being last meant she had the added pressure of the other scores. Who to beat. What to modify in her program to maximize points. And that was on top of her usual back up plans if she fell or didn’t land a jump properly. Being first didn’t have as much pressure, but she couldn’t adjust. Personally she preferred being somewhere in the middle. Maybe France would be on her side. She glanced at her phone, rereading Yuri’s text that wished her luck. She originally wanted him there when they were assigned, but now...Perhaps it was best he didn’t see her like this. See them like this. The tension from the day before was still lingering between her and Victor. Practice had gone a little better, but it wasn’t without it’s hiccups.

Soon enough the event started. Clara spent her time leading up to her event doing interviews with Victor. He plastered on a fake smile.

“We’re just going to focus on refining the programs as well as obtaining a new personal best,” Victor stated.

“Thank you Mr. Nikiforov. Miss Novikoff, can you tell us what it’s like to be Victor’s second student?”

“Ah...Well,” Clara started, glancing at her coach. “It’s certainly full of surprises. I didn’t even know he was going to be my coach until I moved to Saint Petersburg to train.” She gave a small smile. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way, honestly.”

“Would you be able to tell us why you dropped out of the season so early last year?”

“Ah…Um...” She rubbed her neck.

Victor brought her under his arm. “That’s enough questions for now. We still have to warm up. Thank you for your time.” He whisked her away to the seats where Yuuri was watching the male skaters perform. Michele Crispino was currently on the ice.

“How’d the interview go?” Yuuri inquired.

“It was fine,” Clara stated. She had figured that they would be curious about her absence last year, but she really didn’t want to be painted as an underdog or given pitty. She’d managed to keep her personal life, what little she had anyway, separated from her life on the ice for the past few years. Probably helped that she really sucked at maintaining any sort of social media account. The attention she was getting from Victor’s accounts alone was enough for her. He usually posted pictures of his husband and their dog, but she had been caught in the crossfire quite a few times. Usually when she was napping or she accidentally came into frame while they were at the rink.

“Who’s next?” Victor asked.

“Otabek,” Yuuri replied.

“He’s always fun to watch,” Victor chuckled.

Victor wasn’t wrong. Otabek had long since been known as the dark horse of the skating world. Clara couldn’t help but feel some sort of kinship with him. They had both made it this far on determination and hard work, not that the other skaters didn’t do the same. She had met him in passing the previous year during the competition. Michele’s performance ended and Otabek took the ice to give a performance of flair and raw power. Once he finished, the three of them made their way to the rink. Clara double checked her laces and did some stretches as the rink was being resurfaced.

“Clara, I don’t want you to worry about your jumps in warm up. Focus on your step sequences,” Victor suggested. “We can work on your technical skills later, for now just focus on the overall performance.”

Clara nodded. “Right. About yesterday...”

“It’s fine, everybody handles the pressure differently.” He adjusted the bedazzled clips in her hair. “This is our first competition together, there’s bound to be a few bumps along the way. Just do your best.” He flashed a genuine smile.

Clara’s turn on the ice came quickly. Xanti left the ice and Clara removed the guards from her skates. She took off her jacket to fully reveal an intricately sequined yellow dress. A blue sash hugged her waist with a sheer layer of shimmering fabric fluttering out. She put on her ‘gloves’, a triangle of fabric that attached to her ring fingers and were strapped around her wrist. These were connected to her dress by the same fabric that formed the top layer of her skirt, just white rather than yellow. Paired with her hair and makeup, she gave off a royal appearance. She was Anya after all. She was very specific about this costume. It was inspired by her favorite movie after all. 

“Taking the ice is Clara Novikoff of the United States of America,” the announcer stated. “She’ll be skating to ‘Once Upon A December’ for her Short Program.” Clara took a deep breath and took to the ice.

The melancholy tones of a piano filled the arena as Clara curtsied as if being invited to dance. From there she spun off to build momentum for her first jump. Spread eagle into a triple axel. It was a difficult entry, but she pulled it off. The crowd cheered in response. She then went into her first step sequence, a spiral sequence. She held her arms out, angling her head as if somebody was gliding alongside her on the ice. She kicked off the ice and flew into a layback spin. She followed this up with a sit spin. Her toe pick snagged the ice and she hit the surface face first. The crowd gasped and groaned. She recovered quickly and continued on. Her eyes watered from the pain and she could tell from the moisture on her face that she was bleeding. Not like it was the first time her face collided with the ice or the barrier. Probably wouldn’t be her last either.

Victor squeezed the plush poodle that held their tissues. He nodded enthusiastically as Clara moved into the second half of the program upon completing the triple salchow - single loop combination. His eyes widened for a moment as he noticed her raising her arms, increasing the difficulty.

Yuuri blinked. “Isn’t that Yurio’s signature?”

Victor gave a short nod, focusing on his student and she waltzed through her serpentine step sequence. His heart was pounding. Then the Lutz combo, two doubles. They planned for a triple and a double. His palms were sweating. The last jump combo, double salchow followed by a single flip. She built up speed and launched into the first jump. He gasped as she turned the double into a triple and the single flip became a double. She was trying to make up for the fall and the double. His chest burnt as he realized he was holding his breath.

Clara’s legs burnt and her chest was on fire as she finished off her performance with sit spin that blossomed up into a layback spin. She outstretched her arm, the other behind her as she slowed to a stop. She closed her eyes as not to have the lights of the arena blind her as she looked upward, as if bidding farewell to her unseen partner. The music came to an end only to be replaced by the thunderous cheers from the spectators in the bleachers. Flowers and stuffed foxes fell onto the ice as she bowed to the judges and returned to Victor, scooping up a purple fox along the way.

Yuuri barely gave her the opportunity to get her guards back on before wiping the blood trickling from her nose with a series of tissues. She put her jacket on as the three of them went to the kiss and cry. She hugged the fox with one arm as she held a tissue to her nose. Yuuri had one hand on her shoulder, the other on her arm. Victor had his whole body fixated on the screen in front of them as they waited for her score.

“With that score, Novikoff is in fourth place,” the announcer stated.

Clara found herself squeezed between the two men as they both hugged her. Or were they trying to hug each other and she was the unfortunate victim in the crossfire? She squeezed her eyes shut and smiled as tears ran down her face. Everything hurt, but it was a good hurt. Well, except maybe for her bleeding nose.

“I’m so glad you loosened up,” Victor said. “Your step sequences were nearly perfect, but we need to work on your jumps. And when did you start lifting your arms during your jumps? You’ve never done that in practice.”

“I just thought it could recover some of the points I lost from the fall and the jumps I messed up,” she said sheepishly.

“Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Yuuri chuckled.

“Learning from the best.”

They left the kiss and cry and Clara changed out of her skates into a comfortable pair of gym shoes after getting her sweat pants back on. They hadn’t even left the arena when her phone started ringing.

“Clara! What the hell?!” Yuri’s voice exploded from the device in her hand. He was speaking Russian. “What the hell was that?”

Clara blushed. He was at home. Tora was settled on the back of the couch where Yuri was seated. “Hi Yuri.”

“When did you start doing that thing with your arms?!” He waved his free arm about. His phone shook from the movements. “It was flawless so don’t you dare tell me that you haven’t been practicing it.”

“It was amazing right?” Victor said in Russian, putting his head into frame. “You two haven’t been having secret sessions have you?”

“Ah… Well… Um… Shit...,” Clara sputtered. She could feel her ears turning red. Yuri froze as a slight blush came to his own face. While everybody knew of Yuri’s private ice time, they didn’t know she tagged along with him. It was a weekly ritual they had for a while now. A chill ran down her spine as Victor’s presence suddenly became cold. “It must be late over there,” Clara said. “You should get to sleep. Can’t be late for practice, right?”

“Wait, Clara-”

She ended the call, shoving the phone back into her pocket. Victor was practically pouting. “You’ve wounded me, Clara. Having secret sessions with Yurio behind my back. Is there anything else you two are hiding?”

“What?! No! Of course not,” Clara said defensively. “We’ve just been working on our programs and jumps. It was just a bit of extra practice.” Practice that always ended up with them grabbing a bite and either going to her place her his. Usually his as he had a comfortable couch. Her face turned red. Wait, were they _dating?_ She suddenly felt dizzy. This couldn’t be happening.


	10. Shimmering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Music for Clara's Free Program](https://youtu.be/hWuRA_JvCR8?list=PLkBFn4PBGd1WTTOC6jbZcadHR3uWrh1cH)   
>  [A doodle related to last chapter](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/post/155738896710/a-doodle-related-to-my-yuri-on-ice-fanfic)
> 
> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

“Come on,” Yuri pleaded as the app rang several times before stopping. She wasn’t picking up. She wasn’t going to at this rate. It was late, nearly three in the morning in Saint Petersburg. The nine hour time difference became increasingly irritating within the past few days. Tora mewed and hopped off the couch. Yuri grumbled and took it as a sign to stop for the night. It had been two hours since their last call was ended so abruptly. He rubbed his eyes. Practice was in six hours. Which meant he could get maybe five hours of sleep.

He walked to his bedroom and flopped backwards onto the mattress and closed his eyes. Sleep did not agree with him that night as he spent most of it tossing and turning. He gave up at six in the morning, opting for a cold shower and a cup of tea. Breakfast consisted of a thick protein shake and an apple. If Clara were there she’d be scolding him as she always made sure they ate a decent breakfast whenever she spent the night. He found it amusing since she had a frequent habit of skipping meals. Not that she did it on purpose, she usually got so wrapped up in practice she would just forget to eat.

He opened the cookie jar and took two of the treats out. She had made lemon shortbread cookies before she left for Chicago. He found it particularly amusing how she put the effort into making them have tiger stripes with layers of black dough against the white. He munched on his treat as he got the cat food out, the three fur balls immediately invaded the kitchen as they heard the can pop open. Tora jumped up on the counter, as always. His two siblings, a ragdoll-siamese mix named Barynya and a russian blue named Kroha, circled his legs as they added the daily allotment of fur to his pants leg. He put the food on a plate and put it on the floor for the three of them to share. He played with the three of them until it was time to go to practice.

He was the last one to the rink and just barely on time. He did his usual stretches and started with a few laps on the ice to warm up before starting to practice his shirt program.

“Clara got fourth?” Georgi questioned, he sounded surprised.

“Yeah, she fell and she messed up a few of her combos,” Mila sighed as she stood at the barrier with their rink mate, her phone in hand. “Hope she’s Ok. She hit the ice rather hard from the looks of it.”

“Fourth isn't that bad, considering,” Georgi stated. “The Free Program matters more anyway. Those jumps at the end seemed familiar, don't you think?” A chill ran down Yuri’s spine, he could feel their eyes.

“Will you two stop chatting and get back to work?” Yakov bellowed. “This is not the time to be slacking off!” The elderly Russian man looked to Yuri. “Your footwork is sloppy, Yuri.”

Yuri grunted in response and corrected himself. He built up his speed for his quad salchow. He cursed internally as he fell from his now triple salchow, his body slamming against the ice.

“What the hell was that, Yuri?” Yakov scolded. Yuri brushed himself off as he got back up. “Just because Vitya and them are in America doesn't mean you get to take it easy. We have less than two weeks until we leave for Paris, I want your programs polished.”

Trophee de France was going to be his first event of the Grand Prix series, and Clara's second. Tonight was her Free Program and depending on the her placement would determine how her chances of getting into the final would go. Her Short Program wasn’t bad, but it certainly left a lot to be desired even after all the extra practice they put in. Perhaps the stress of being back home had something to do with it. Or Victor’s struggle of coaching somebody who wasn’t his husband for once.

Yuri went through the motions of his routine. Clara would be heading straight to Paris after Skate America. Victor didn’t see the point in coming back just to leave a few days later. It made sense in a way, but that meant Yuri couldn’t work in extra sessions with Clara. And the thought of that frustrated him. Why?

Practice at the rink ended and he made his way to the studio for his practice with Lilia.

“Enough,” Lilia huffed as she sharply clapped her hands. “You’re distracted, Yuri. It's not like you to lose focus before a competition.” Her stern eyes studied his face. “What is on your mind? Are you nervous?”

Like hell he was. Competition was nothing new to him, he had grown up in this sport. He broke a record and win gold during his senior debut and several others after that. Still, nervous as an accurate description for the knot in his stomach. “Tsk. I don't get nervous,” Yuri stated. “Why would I be?”

Lilia tapped her chin. “That girl… Clara, was it? She’s competing tonight, isn't she?” Lilia herself had only met Clara in passing a handful of times, mostly when she was leaving the studio with Victor and Yuuri and the times she had gone to the rink to help with choreography.

“So?”

“It’s not unusual to get nervous on a friend's behalf.” Yuri avoided her eyes, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. Lilia pursed her lips. She knew that look all too well. “Ah I see.”

“What?”

“I am familiar with that gleam in your eyes,” she said gently. “Yakov used to have it long ago.” As did many of her suitors back from her ballet days.

“What the f… What are you talking about? What ‘gleam’?”

Lilia sighed. How could she put this in a way he could understand? “You know that look Vitya gets when he and Yuuri are apart?” Yuri rolled his eyes. Of course he did. He was the one who had to deal with Victor’s sulking ass. Thankfully, it didn't happen often. “You have that look, Yuri.”

Yuri furrowed his brow and his lips pinched together. He wasn't that pathetic. Was he? He sighed and undid his hair. “Clara's in fourth right now.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“I see,” Lilia said.

“She still has her Free Program, so she should be fine.”

“But you're still concerned,” Lilia stated.

“So?” Yuri changed into his normal shoes. “I want her to make it to the Final again. She took everybody by surprise last year.” She took him by surprise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t worry about landing your jumps too much, focus on the performance,” Victor encouraged as he fussed with her gold, sequined bowtie and brushed aside her bangs. “We still have Paris if you don’t make it onto the podium today.”

“When was the last time you ate?” Yuuri questioned.

“Uh… breakfast…?” Clara tugged on her glimmering, purple gloves with trembling hands. “I had a bagel with honey and butter… and some orange juice.”

Yuuri nodded. It was something, even if he didn't quite like how little it was. He had taken time to talk to Heather the last few days and found her insights rather helpful. Asking Clara about her eating habits was one the tips he picked up during their many conversations.

Clara took a sip from her water bottle, grateful that it wasn't a twist off. It was nearly time for her to skate. First of the Free Program event. “We should get to the ice. It's almost time, right?” She fidgeted with the buttons on her vest.

Victor took her trembling hands. “Clara.” Their eyes met and Victor pulled her into a hug. Her body tensed up for a moment before relaxing in his embrace. “Just let the music guide you.” He let go and stepped away. “Ready?”

Clara took a deep breath and slowly released it. Her nerves calmed and she turned to the rink. She marched up to the barrier with Yuuri and Victor following behind her. She stretched and shook out her arms before removing her guards.

“Kicking off today’s Ladies’ Single Free Program is Clara Novikoff of America,” the commentator stated.

Clara tugged her ponytail, making sure her purple sequined scrunchie was tight enough, before stepping onto the ice. She shook out her arms again, getting rid of the last of her nerves as she came to the center of the rink. She glanced at her coaches, then at the judges.

The music started and she took off to build the speed for her triple salchow. She kept the strokes of her blades in time with the beat as she flew into an upright spin. She sparkled in the harsh lights the golden train of her vest fluttered as she moved into the triple toe loop. She skirted around the rink, letting the music guide her into a spin combo. Clara beamed as she effortlessly switched her foot before moving onto the step sequence. Weeks of practice both on the ice and at the rink shone through. She glanced at her coaches. Yuuri was holding his hands to his mouth, beaming. Victor’s gaze was focused as he held his chin, but he had a small smile. Victor gave a small nod. Clara smirked and picked up her pace, still keeping in time with the music as she moved into the second half of her program.

“Here comes her first jump combination.” Clara could feel the spectators holding their breath as she went into her triple axel, quickly following it up with a double, and finishing the combo with a single toe loop. “She nailed it!”

Clara coaxed the crowd as waving to them as she moved into a triple flip. She stretched out her hand, her glove grazing the ice as she managed to prevent herself from falling. It was better than a face plant to the ice. Two more combos followed: a double flip-single flip and a quad salchow-single salchow. The crowd was entranced. Her heart was pounding. Her lungs could barely keep up and her legs were on fire. She flipped into a camel spin and smoothly exited it with a bow before perking back up.

“Here comes the last jump combination,” the announcer said. “A triple lutz-double lutz. She doesn’t seem to be showing signs of fatigue with such a jump heavy routine in the second half.”

“Working with Katsuki and Nikiforov this season is really showing through her footwork and her jumps.”

“She landed both! Amazing!”

Clara beamed as she finished off the program with her layback spin with a change of foot. The final element. She broke from it and outstretched her arms as she turned to face the judges as the music finished. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air. The crowd was cheering. Flowers and stuffed woodland creatures were raining onto the ice. Clara bowed and skated back to her coaches.

“Wow! Amazing!” Victor wrapped his arms around her.

“That was your best performance yet,” Yuuri said happily. “You looked like you were having fun out there.”

Clara nodded and got free of Victor to put her guards on. “I was…” She wheezed. She would have to work on her endurance more. Especially if her programs were going to be so jump heavy in the second half.

Victor beamed. “Great.”

Clara found herself shoot up to first place, but Sara knocked her down to second with her performance and Minka came in third. Clara stood confidently beside Sara, medal in one hand and flowers in the other as they posed for the cameras. Frustration radiated from Minka despite her friendly smile. Clara could feel her glaring at her, but she didn’t care.

“I hope to see you at the Final, Clara,” Sara said as they left the ice. “Though, don’t expect to take gold. This is my last year in the Grand Prix, so I’m going out strong.”

Clara smiled. “It wouldn’t be any fun if it were easy.”

Sara chuckled and touched her shoulder. “I’m glad to see you back on the ice. Don’t pull your Cinderella act again this year.”

“Don’t plan on it.”

“See you in Tokyo.” Sara waved and disappeared into a sea of reporters.

Clara held the silver medal in her hand as she walked over to Victor and Yuuri. Victor beamed and gently held the prize in his fingers. “Second place isn’t bad for the first event. I don’t want you slacking off in Paris. We have to work on your footwork and jumps a bit more.”

Clara nodded and sniffed as tears rolled down her face. “I won’t slack off.” She smiled and wiped away her tears.

“Heather’s waiting for us,” Yuuri chuckled. “We should get going.”

They met up with Heather at the hotel, giving Clara the chance to change into something more comfortable as well as a quick shower. She kept her medal on, as per Victor’s request, but kept it tucked into her jacket. Nikki and Krystal tackled her with hugs as she came into the lobby.

“You were great!” Nikki paised. “I want to skate like that too.”

“You should have won gold,” Krystal pouted. “Who cares if you fell?”

Clara smiled and hugged the girls. “Silver isn’t bad either. I’ll get gold next time.”

“I’m sure you will,” Heather said as she detached her daughters from Clara. “But we’ll support you even if you don’t.” She smiled. “Now, let’s get home, I’m sure dinner’s done by now.”

They made their way over to Heather’s apartment. The walls were covered in pictures of Heather and her girls and several of herself and Clara at her early competitions. The space was small with a small kitchen that fed into the living space, past that were the two bedrooms and the bathroom. Tyrone met up with them and brought a few cases of apple ale. With so many people they set up dinner in the living room, gathering around the wooden coffee table with cushions and pillows thrown on the floor for seating.

“I hope we have enough,” Clara said.

“I used both slow cookers,” Heather chuckled. She brought out both of the ceramic bowls from the kitchen and rested them on pot holders.

“It smells great,” Yuuri complemented. “What is it?”

“Barbeque pulled pork,” Heather said with pride. Krystal brought out a bowl of coleslaw and Nikki brought out paper plates, a box of plastic utensils, and several bags of hamburger buns.

With everything set up on the small table, it was time to eat. Krystal and Nikki showed their foreign visitors how to construct their sandwiches, being really adamant about putting the coleslaw on top of the pulled pork. Clara partook in enjoying a bottle of green apple ale. She had won silver after all, she was allowed to celebrate. The space was cramped, but with enough maneuvering and communication it was comfortable.

“It’s almost like being Hasetsu,” Victor commented before taking a sip from his bottle of ale. “Yuuri, we should take Clara some time. The hot springs are divine.”

Yuuri chuckled. “We can go after the Final.”

“Wow, really?”

“It’s been awhile since our last visit,” Yuuri said. “We’ll have some time before the next competition series starts up.”

“Man, you’re lucky Clara. Getting to travel,” Tyrone teased.

“You studied in France once,” Clara retorted in a friendly tone.

“For like a month and it was nothing but workshops and classes. I barely had time to site see.” He poked her shoulder. “You need to post to Instagram more.”

“It’d only make you jealous,” Clara chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Besides, Victor take enough pictures to make up for it. Just follow him.”

“Pfft, you’re no fun,” Tyrone huffed.

By the time everybody was done eating there was hardly anything left on the table. The girls eventually went to bed and they took it as a sign to return to the hotel.

Heather hugged Clara. “I’m so proud of you, Clara.”

Clara returned the hug. “Thanks Heather.”

“Have fun in Paris. Be sure to send some stuff back from the girls. You know how they like that.”

Clara nodded. “I’ll see what I can find for them.”

Heather smiled. “Have a safe flight tomorrow and please call more often. The girls miss you.”

“I will.”


	11. Together in Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

This was stupid. And crazy. Yuri stared at the large bouquet of roses he had laying in his lap. The blossoms were a selection of pinks, reds, lavender, and white all in a bed of baby's breath. He looked at the arrival times. Her flight was on time. Still, she wouldn't be here for at least another hour. He huffed and fidgeted with the flowers. They were just a congratulations sort of gift. Nothing more. She had won silver, she deserved flowers at least.

“Flight 197 from Chicago is now arriving in terminal 3,” the intercom announced in a variety of languages.

Yuri stood up and headed towards the terminal. A fair number of people were already waiting.

“I wonder who the lucky girl is.” A elderly lady commented.

“I wish my husband would do that.”

Yuri felt his ears turning red. Couldn’t they just mind their own business? He kept his eyes fixed on the doors and soon people started coming through with their luggage in tow. His heart started racing as Victor came into view. He was hard to miss with his silver locks. Yuuri was beside him with Clara not far behind. He took a deep breath.

“Clara.” He called, waving an arm in the air.

Clara looked confused for a moment, she didn't know anybody in France after all, but a smile came to her face and she jogged up to him. “Oh, Yuri. What are you doing here?”

“I got in last night.” He offered her the flowers. “Congrats on winning silver.”

Clara blushed and took the bouquet. She took in the light, soothing fragrance for a moment. “Thank you, Yuri. They're beautiful.”

“Yurio,” Victor greeted. “Fancy seeing you here. Does Yakov know you're here?”

“Not yet,” Yuri stated with a smug grin.

“So you're here alone?” Clara asked pointedly. “Without your coach? With a competition in a week?”

A shiver ran down Yuri’s spine from Clara’s icy stare. “Yeah. I’ve booked time at the rink. I’m not slacking off, not this close to a competition.”

Clara nodded. “Good.”

“Well, since you're here you can join us for dinner tonight,” Victor said cheerfully.

“Let's get to the hotel first,” Yuuri said. “We still have a couple of hours until our reservation.”

They got to the hotel with little issue. Yuri’s room was a few floors up from Clara’s suite, which like in Chicago was connected to Victor and Yuuri’s room. Clara picked her outfit for the night, hanging her purple dress on a hanger on the back of the bathroom door, before starting a pot of coffee and stepping into the shower. She managed to sleep on the plane for most of the flight so she was still fairly awake, but a shower still felt nice especially since she didn’t get the chance to take one before racing to O’Hare that morning.

Clara sighed as she massaged the conditioner into her hair. Yuri’s presence at the airport was a pleasant surprise. The flowers were nice too, the lavender roses were a nice touch. Purple was her favorite color. Yuri was adamant about them being about her newly obtained medal, but part of her felt like it was something more. Or maybe she was just reading too much into it. Regardless, she was glad Yuri was here. Victor and Yuuri were great, but she often felt like a third wheel while around them outside of the rink. She washed the conditioner out of her hair and finished her shower.

Feeling refreshed she enjoyed a cup of coffee and started getting ready for her night out. She slipped into her purple dress and pulled on her thick, grey leggings. Clara carefully dried her hair with the hair dryer, using a low setting as to not damage her hair. She put on her make up and grabbed a grey infinity scarf and a black jacket from her bag. By the time she finished it was nearly time to leave. She slipped into a pair of plain black wedges and stepped out of her room with her purse in hand.

The four of them met in the lobby. Victor dressed in black slacks and a blue dress shirt underneath his brown trenchcoat. Yuuri was wearing navy blue trousers with a white shirt. Yuri wore his favorite jacket, a black letterman style jacket with orange leopard print sleeves. Underneath he was wearing a white shirt with grey-blue slacks. They took a cab to the restaurant, which was definitely one of the fancier establishments Clara had ever found herself in. When she traveled with Heather they kept costs low, but still made an effort to enjoy the local culture.

Yuri pulled out her seat and pushed her in before taking the chair next to her. She removed her jacket and scarf, putting them on the back of her seat. Victor ordered a few bottles of wine for the table, which Clara allowed herself to enjoy during their meal. She had a while until the competition and as long as she didn’t have too much it wouldn’t affect tomorrow’s practice she could have a few drinks. Dinner went along great, Victor started talking about what improvements could be made to her programs as well as Yuuri’s. Though, Yuuri’s critique soon turned into Victor swooning over his husband, flooding him with compliments and poorly whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

“Victor,” Yuuri whispered. “Now is not the time or place.” His face was nearly as red as the wine, which Victor was really enjoying.

“Gross,” Yuri muttered. He looked to Clara and nodded his head toward the door. Clara nodded and finished what was left of her wine before grabbing her jacket.

“We’ll leave you two to...Whatever this is,” Clara said.

Yuuri nodded and waved them off. They left the restaurant and found themselves in a nearby park. Yuri kept a few steps ahead of her and they walked in silence. Clara took a deep breath and caught up with Yuri.

“They sure are...affectionate.” She chuckled.

“They’ve been like this for years,” Yuri said flatly. “It’s gross.”

Clara shrugged. “I think it’s sweet in a way.”

“Pfft, really?”

“Well, yeah. To be that comfortable with a person.” She shrugged. Silence fell between them again. Clara’s eyes wandered the park as they strolled. There suddenly appeared to be an abundance of couples surrounding them. She didn’t know whether to take it as a sign from the universe or just coincidence. “The roses are nice. I’ll have to get a vase for them when we get back to the hotel. I really like the purple ones.”

“I thought you’d like them,” Yuri said.

“Yuri, what...What are you doing here?” She bit her lip. “It’s not that...I mean… You said that Yakov keeps you on a short leash. That’s why you couldn’t come to Chicago...So… Why are you here? In Paris?”

Yuri stopped, but kept his back toward her. “What am I to you, Clara?” He asked. His voice quivered with hesitation. Clara blinked. She went to speak, but no words were forming. Yuri kicked the path. “What do you want me to be?”

“Want you to be…?” Clara raised an eyebrow.

Yuri grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is stupid. Forget I said anything.” He started walking again, at a faster pace than before. “We should get back to the hot-”

Clara cut off his words as she grabbed his wrist and spun him around to meet her lips. She smelt of roses and her lips tasted faintly of wine. He blinked as she broke away. Her face was red and tears were in her eyes. “How’s that for an answer?” She released his arm and gently took his hand. “I missed you while I was in Chicago.”

“You should have called then.”

“I didn’t want to distract you, but I guess that was out of my control.”

“I may have been a bit impulsive,” Yuri admitted. “I wanted to have some time with you before the event. I’ve missed our private sessions.” He brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Do you want to grab a drink? We can order some champagne at the hotel.”

 

Clara blushed. “Yeah. Champagne sounds great.”

They hailed a cab and got back to the hotel. They opted for Yuri’s room for an extra layer of privacy. Mainly for Victor and Yuuri’s. Yuri ordered the champagne as Clara stepped out of her shoes and hung up her purse.

“Should be a few minutes,” Yuri said as he hung up the phone. He blushed as Clara gently sat him on the bed with a playful shove. She sat on his lap, a leg on each side of him. He held onto the small of her back, not wanting her to slide off. Clara caressed his face and lifted his face to meet hers with a much softer kiss. He brought her closer while returning the gesture. Yuri closed his eyes, tasting the wine on her lips, the sweet scent of roses that wafted from her very being, the warmth of her body that soaked into his fingertips as he slipped his hand underneath her jacket.

Their lips parted as a knock came from the door. Clara slowly exhaled. “Should I…?”

“I’ll get it,” Yuri said.

Clara got off of him. She removed her scarf and jacket, hanging them off the back of the desk chair. She ran her fingers through her hair as she sat back on the bed. Yuri thanked the hotel staff and turned back to her, two glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other. He popped the cork and poured filled the two glasses.

“First,” Clara said, “A toast.”

“A toast?” Yuri chuckled.

“Hm. Well maybe toast isn’t the right word, but I’m going with it.” She playfully cleared her throat and raised her glass. “To taking gold.”

Yuri clinked his glass with hers. “To taking gold.”

They finished their glasses and alternated between locking lips and drinking until half the bottle was gone. Clara found herself struggling to unbutton Yuri’s shirt after he had struggled with the endeavor for several minutes. Her dress was already partially unzipped in the back and she had removed her leggings a few glasses of champagne ago.

“Clara wait,” Yuri said. His voice was slightly slurred and the scent of alcohol was heavy on his breath.

“I almost got it… There.”

“Clara.” Yuri took her hands, planting a soft kiss on her skin. “How far do you want to go?”

“I want to sleep with you.”

Yuri swallowed as he felt a fire ignite within his abdomen. “Huh…?”

“I really don’t want to go back to my room tonight,” Clara huffed. She slipped her hands out of his grasp and started working on his shirt again. She blinked as her face turned red. “By sleep with you I mean actually sleep.”

Yuri sighed in relief and nodded. “There’s only one bed and this suite doesn’t come with a couch.”

“We can share,” Clara said. “I’ll try not to hog the covers. Is that Ok?”

“Yeah.” Yuri nodded. He got up and got out a pair of tiger striped lounge pants and a black t-shirt from his suitcase. He offered the shirt to Clara. “This should be more comfortable than your dress.”

Clara nodded and took the shirt. She unzipped her dress the rest of the way with some contorting as Yuri stepped into the bathroom to change. The dress dropped to the floor and her bra soon followed. She pulled the shirt over her head and tugged it down. It covered just as much as her dress. She kicked her discarded clothes off to the side and sat on the bed. Yuri stepped out of the bathroom in his tiger pants.

“You have a tattoo,” Clara observed. A fierce tiger had its portrait imprinted into the skin of Yuri’s right pectoral.

Yuri smiled. “Yeah. Should have seen Yakov’s face when I first got it.” He put his clothes on top of his suit case. “Which side do you want?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Yuri nodded and got under the covers from the left side of the bed. Clara joined him from the right. He took her under his arm and held her close. Taking in a deep breath of roses and champagne before drifting off to sleep.


	12. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of fluff before the competition heats up again in the next chapter~  
> Leo and Clara know each other through competitions in the US. They've been friends for a couple years.  
> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

“Nngh,” Yuri grunted as a muffled chime filled the room. “What’s that noise?”

Clara rolled away from Yuri with a groan. “My alarm.” She got out of bed and dug her phone out of her purse. She turned it off, placing it on her end table, and joined Yuri back under the covers. “Forgot to turn it off. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Yuri yawned and rolled onto his side, facing Clara. Her hair was nearly golden in the morning light. His heart pounded as she smiled softly. “You have to meet up with Vitya right?”

“That’s not until later,” she snuggled close. “Besides, I think he might oversleep today. He had quite a bit of wine last night.”

Yuri chuckled, running his fingers through her soft hair. The smell of champagne had long since faded, but the faint hint of roses still lingered. Hazy memories from the previous night replayed in his mind. He had attempted relationships in the past, but they wouldn’t last long for one reason or another. Usually because he spent so much time on the ice and traveling for half of the year didn’t make things any easier. Nor did his fanbase- Yuri’s Angels. As devoted as they were, he felt that they really didn’t care for his life outside of skating. It became frustrating at times, especially when they drove people away with waves of negative messages that would make their rounds on social media.

“Clara,” Yuri spoke, breaking the long, but comfortable silence between them.

“Hm?”

How to find the words. Their relationship wasn’t going to be private for long. At best they had a few days until the rest of the competitors would arrive along with the press. “How about some breakfast?” 

“Breakfast sounds great,” Clara smiled. “How about we have it in my room?”

“Your room?”

“I have something for you.”

Yuri blushed. “Ok.”

Clara kissed his neck and sat up. She got out of bed and picked her leggings up off the floor. Yuri admired the view as she pulled them on. She shot him a smile as she picked up her phone and gathered the rest of her clothes. She kissed his head. “Come on down when you’re ready. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Surprise me,” Yuri smirked.

“Alright then.” Clara smiled and grabbed her purse as she left the room.

Yuri took a deep breath as he sat up. He picked up his phone and turned it on for the first time since he left Saint Petersburg for Paris. Immediately it started vibrating and chiming with alerts of missed calls and unread messages. Most were from Yakov, which wasn’t a surprise. He set his phone down and stretched. He took a quick shower and put on his black athletic wear. He grabbed the bag that held his skates as well as his phone before leaving his room for Clara’s. He softly knocked on the door, not wanting to wake Victor or Yuuri if they were still asleep.

Clara answered the door, already dressed for a morning at the rink. “Breakfast isn’t here yet,” she said.

“What’d you order?”

“Crepes,” she said. “Oh and orange juice. Some mangoes. An all around wholesome breakfast.” She opened the curtains, letting the morning sun fill the room.

“Sounds delicious.” Yuri sat on the bed. “You said you had something for me.”

“Right. Close your eyes.” Yuri did as instructed and even covered his eyes with his hands to resist the urge to peak. He heard her unzip her suitcase and rummage around. “It’s gotta be...Ah here it is. Ok open your eyes.” Yuri opened his eyes to see a finely knit hat that was made to look like a cartoon tiger. His heart skipped a beat and his ears turned red. Clara placed it on his head with a smile. “Haha, it fits. Do you like it? I found it while I was visiting my hometown.”

“I love it,” Yuri said. He kissed her lips, gently holding her chin. “Thank you.”

Clara smiled, her cheeks flush with color. “You’re welcome.”

Their breakfast soon arrived and they enjoyed it while idly chatting. Mostly about the upcoming competition. They had a quick make out session before a groggy Victor knocked on her door. It was time to head to the rink for practice. Yuuri was still fast asleep.

The arena was huge and it the scraping of their blades against the ice seemed to echo through the empty stadium. Clara went through her Short Program first, focusing on her step sequences and overall performance. Victor leaned on the barrier and watched intently through his sunglasses, the lights reflecting off the ice weren’t helping his headache any this morning. He had enjoyed a bit too much wine the previous night. He tapped his chin and pursed his lips as he watched both Clara and Yuri skate. Music was radiating out of both of them today filling his mind with a harmonious mash up as he observed. In the years he had known Yuri, he had hardly seen him skate like this. Relaxed and fluid with his choreography. The Ice Tiger of Russia had long been known as a monster on the ice. A beast who skated with such ferocity and force that you couldn’t help but watch him as he smashed records and took the center podium year after year. Of course the competition was days away and the pressure always brought forth a much different side for some skaters. Skate America had taught him much about Clara. Mostly that she was just as stubborn as his beloved husband and worked just as hard.

Victor took to the ice. “You’re sequences are improving, Clara. Just remember to emote during your program. You tend to get rather stoic. Especially after a fall.”

Clara nodded. “Noted. I’ll focus more on the performance.”

“As for you, Yurio,” Victor started.

“Hey, you’re not my coach, Vitya,” Yuri spat.

Clara smirked. “Well _somebody_ decided to come here without their coach. And before a _competition_ no less.”

Yuri huffed, surrendering to Clara’s teasing and her pointed glare. “What is it?”

“You’re much more fluid in your movements today.” Victor tapped his chin. “They’re gentle. Usually you’re much more forceful. It’s quite the change.”

Yuri shrugged. “I guess something just clicked.”

Victor nodded. He smirked and tapped his chin. “Keep a hold of that through the competitions. It should help.”

The next few days went like this. Clara and Yuri would spend quiet nights in Yuri’s suite just enjoying each other’s company whether it was while they were making out or watching a movie on the TV. They would then go to Clara’s room for breakfast and then spend the rest of the morning into the early afternoon practicing for the Trophee de France. After that they had the rest of the day to do as they pleased while Victor spent the next few hours training with Yuuri. They usually opted for lunch followed by some general sightseeing and window shopping. Clara bought small trinkets for Nikki and Krystal back in Chicago and made sure to take pictures of the sights they saw, being careful not to get Yuri in any of them.

“I don’t think we should spend the night together tonight,” Clara said as they strolled through a park. “Everybody else will be arriving tonight at the earliest.”

“What does that matter?” Yuri questioned.

Clara bit her lip. “I’m still getting questions about what happened last season. Something like this...This will blow up like...Like when Victor kissed Yuuri at the Cup of China.”

Yuri nodded. “You have a point. My fans tend to get a bit… possessive. To put it lightly.” He recalled the storm of notifications and articles that took over the internet back when Otabek swept him away on his motorcycle. Took weeks for rumors to fizzle out and for everybody to move on. The privacy they had been enjoying, maybe even taking for granted, the past few days was only going to last so long. “I’m fine with keeping us quiet for the time being.”

Clara smiled, sighing in relief. “Thank you.”

When they returned to the hotel it was already abuzz with the arrival of the Russian team as well as Phichit and Leo. The lobby was crowded with fans and journalists all clammering for the athletes’ attention. Victor and Yuuri had come back from their practice and were currently being interviewed.

“Clara!” Leo waved her down and pulled her into a hug. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Good to see you too, Leo. How was Canada?” Clara said, returning the hug.

“I placed third,” Leo sighed. “I didn’t land a quad and it cost me.” He shrugged. “I should be fine if I place high enough here.”

“There’s still three more events after this one,” Clara said.

“Ugh,” Leo grunted dramatically. “Don’t remind me. My nerves are already on edge as it is.” He shook out his hands. “Congrats on winning silver at Skate America. Quite the accomplishment for somebody who fell on their face.”

“Hey, I was just glad I didn’t bleed all over my costume,” Clara chuckled.

“Do you have plans tonight? Phichit and I are trying to get everyone together for drinks and dancing.” He ran a hand through his brown hair, a smolder to his eyes. “We never got our dance last year.”

“Because you didn't make it into the final.” Clara playfully poked his chest.

“Fair enough. Did you find somebody to dance with at least?”

Clara rubbed her neck. “I barely got to finish a glass of champagne before I left. I just couldn't go back in there.” She glanced over at Yuri, who was posing with his fans for a string of selfies. “I hope to enjoy it more this year.”

“If you make it,” Leo teased.

“Oh I’ll make it. Count on it.”

A fair number of skaters gathered at a nearby club later that night. Clara arrived with Yuri, Georgi and Mila. Leo was already there with Guang Hong, Phichit and Emil. All sitting in a large, round booth as they enjoyed their first round of drinks. The music was pounding and the colorful lights of blues, purples and pinks danced across the space. The air was thick with a sparking energy was the other patrons danced to the music.

“Yurio, where’s Victor and Yuuri?” Phichit inquired.

“Vitya was still preening when we left,” Yuri stated.

“They shouldn’t be too far behind,” Clara added.

Phichit’s eyes lit up. “Oh! You’re their new student right? Clara?”

Clara smiled sheepishly. “Yup, that’s me.”

“How about we get a photo?” Phichit pulled out a selfie stick from his coat pocket.

“Seriously?” Yuri grumbled.

“It’s not everyday we all get together like this,” Phichit chuckled. Everybody gathered close and Phichit took a few photos for his Instagram. Clara blushed as Yuri discretely put a hand on her waist during the impromptu photoshoot. “Clara, what’s your profile? I need to tag you.”

“Foxy-cupcake,” Clara blushed.

“Really? That’s so cute,” Phichit chuckled. “There, tagged and followed.”

The party didn’t really start until Victor and Yuuri had arrived and everybody had had at least one drink in their system. Victor and Yuuri were entangled with each other in as ever evolving dance sequence. Phichit and the others were in the middle of a dance off, some of the other patrons had joined in. Clara stood off to the side at the bar, sipping a glass of water.

“Aren’t you going to join us?” Leo asked as he came over. His chest heaved and his face glistened with sweat.

“In a moment. I’m finishing my drink.” She finished her glass and headed to the dance floor with Leo.

Clara started the song on her own, but then found herself in an aggressive duet between her and Leo. He’d spin her in to hold her close, only to have her break free and show him up with moves of her own. Her limited knowledge of ballroom and her polished ballet kicked in as she matched Leo move for move. The song ended and their eyes met as they stared each other down only to break into laughter.

“It’s a draw,” Leo chuckled.

“Rematch at the banquet,” Clara huffed.

“You got it.”

“Just get there this year,” Clara playfully shoved him.


	13. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trophee de France has started~
> 
> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter again since I feel that adding the Free Program would just gunk it up.  
> Tried something new for the skating scene. Let me know what you think~

The stadium was buzzing with excitement and chatter. Today the ladies’ division performed first. Clara was the second one up, after Mila. Her eyes felt heavy as sleep didn’t come easy the prior night. Perhaps it was the drinking or her nerves or the fact that Yuri was being distant today. Clara leaned with her forearms against the wall as she twisted her hips, stretching out her muscles. Once Upon a December played in her ears, drowning out everything and everyone else. She needed to focus and a cup of coffee. Maybe several cups.

She felt a light tap on her shoulder. Clara pushed away from the wall and removed her headphones as she turned. Victor smiled at her and offered her water bottle. “It’s almost time. How are you feeling? You look tired.”

“I had a wrestling match with my bed last night,” Clara said before taking her bottle and taking a sip of water. “I’m fine, though. Just a bit nervous.”

“That’s normal,” Victor assured her. “Just do what we’ve been doing in practice and you’ll be fine.” 

Clara nodded and headed towards the rink. She removed her jacket and headphones, handing them over to Victor, and stretched out her arms while taking a deep breath. Mila took her final bow before exiting the ice. She smiled at Clara, giving two thumbs up as they passed each other. Clara stepped onto the ice while she waited for it to clear.

“Focus on your performance,” Victor encouraged. “Remember to emote. I don’t want you looking like a robot now.”

Clara nodded. “Right.”

“Davai!”

Clara blinked and looked up at the bleachers. Yuri was sitting back in his seat, his hair done up in an elaborate braid and still in his jacket, giving her a thumbs up with a smirk on his face. Clara blushed and gave a small wave in response. “What?”

Victor smirked, a finger to his lips. “Nothing,” he chuckled. “Now go.”

Clara gave a quick, determined nod as she took a deep breath and let it go as she skated to the center of the rink while the commentator announced her to the spectators.

The music started and Clara curtsied. Yuri sat up in his seat as Clara gracefully danced across the ice, building up momentum for her first jump - a triple axel. He smirked as she nailed it and immediately went into her first of two step sequences. He couldn’t look away, every twist and turn captured his attention.

The rink melted away and he suddenly saw an empty ballroom. High windows brought in the dull, silver, lustrous light of the moon. Ornate, pearlescent sconces lit with candles that shone so delicately and exquisitely that the stars would grow envious of their ethereal allure. Clara danced atop the white marble tile with an unseen figure leading. One half of a duet. Her movements were graceful and captivating. The sheer curtains were savagely torn from the windows, transforming into a whirlwind of emotions swirled around her in a melancholy quasar that nearly filled the empty hall.

Mourning.

Regret.

Guilt.

Fear.

Sorrow.

These emotions twisted and turned among each other in a dance of their own enchanting, but violently mesmerizing, choreography as the music ascended into its climax. They swirled upwards towards the arched ceiling, spinning until they swelled and burst, disappearing into a blizzard of glimmering fractals to shower down on Clara who was fixed in the center of the room.

She looked upward with arm out stretched, a reaching hand desperate to keep hold, to the crystal chandelier as her ghostly partner had departed from their turbulent, impassioned waltz and faded away with the music. There she stood.

Alone.

Yuri blinked as the crowd erupted with thunderous applause. The ballroom gave way to the arena as Clara bowed to the judges and to the enthralled audience. He found himself sitting fully forward in his seat with a hand to his mouth. He sat back, letting a quivering breath escape his lips. Had he been holding his breath the entire time? He blinked again, just now feeling the moisture on his lashes. He wiped it away with his thumb as his face gave way to a tender smile.

Clara found herself with a new personal best and standing at second place. Mila was ahead of her once again, but it hardly bothered her. She still had her Free Program and with her current standings she was sure to be on of the finalists for the Grand Prix. Yuri took first place, Leo was in second and Phichit held third by the end of the day’s event. Guang Hong held fourth.

“Nervous for tomorrow?” Leo asked.

“A bit,” Guang Hong replied. “I still have the Cup of China, though. What about you, Clara?”

Clara shrugged and sipped her wine. The hotel bar was quiet, but lively. Nothing like the club the previous night. “Not really. Might change by the event tomorrow, though.” She chuckled.

“I’ll have a beer, please,” Yuri said as he took a seat beside Clara.

“Hey, Yurio,” Leo greeted. “Nice performance today.”

Yuri waved. “Same to you, Leo.” He took a sip of his drink as the bartender set it on the counter. “Your footwork has improved, Clara.”

Clara gave a sultry smile. “You weren’t too bad yourself. Though that’s to be expected from the Ice Tiger of Russia.”

Yuri took a long drink from his beer. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I still have half a glass left,” Clara chuckled, swirling the glass in her hand.

“Your next one then?”

“Sure.”

Clara stopped drinking after the second glass and decided to call it a night. The lack of sleep from the previous night still clung to her eyes so she figured an early night would remedy the situation. After all, the Free Program held more significance when it came to her overall score. And the fact that Mila had placed ahead of her yet again had her resolve to beat her gain that much more tenacity to take gold. Whether it was here or at the Grand Prix Final. The Russian team still had the Rostelecom Cup in November, but she was confident that Mila and Yuri would qualify as they had been for the past several years.

Clara leaned against the elevator wall after selecting her floor. Yuri slipped in as the doors closed. Clara smiled and intertwined her fingers with Yuri’s. He didn’t resist, relaxing his hand. Her skin was soft and warm. They said nothing, just enjoying each other’s presence in the small space. Yuri squeezed her hand as the car reached her floor and the doors parted. Clara returned the gesture before slipping away as she stepped toward the door. Yuri caught her by her fingertips and planted a delicate kiss on her hand before she exited. Their eyes met as the doors began to close.

“Goodnight, Clara.”

“Goodnight, Yuri.”


	14. Need Some Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Struggled with writing this chapter a bit, but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out.

Yuri stood beside Yakov, staring absent-mindedly into his glass of champagne. Watching as the bubbles rolled up the sides of the glass as he slowly swirled it in his hand. Yakov conversed with members of the federation and possible sponsors. Two of his students had taken gold this year, Yuri and Mila, after all.

Yuri sipped his drink, the bubbles tickling his tongue, as he scanned the room. Victor and Yuuri were talking to some of the other coaches, like Celestino. Victor had retired years ago after sustaining yet another knee injury which abruptly ended his season. At that point Victor took it as a sign to retire from competitions. Hell, his come back four years ago was a feat within itself. He was twenty-eight then, now he was in his early thirties. A fact that Victor didn't want to be reminded of if it could be helped. Now Victor spent his time coaching his husband full-time with the occasional exhibition performance here and there. However, Yuuri’s competitive career didn’t have much time left either. He probably would have retired alongside Victor if they hadn’t collectively convinced him to stay on the ice for just a bit longer. That was probably going to change now too with Minami making it into the Final this season and placing fourth.

Whatever the decision was going to be, Yuri was not looking forward to the fighting and passive aggressive skating that would leak over into the rink. That wouldn't change at least.

Yakov had moved on to talk to another coach. The one with the striking blue hair and star tattoos on her neck. Yuri took the opportunity to break away from his coach at that time and meet up with Otabek.

“Hey,” the Kazakh skater greeted. “I’ll take gold next year.”

“You say that every year,” Yuri playfully sneered. He sipped his drink, scanning the room again. 

Mila was talking to the newest skater to the final, Clara. She had been talking about the American skater consistently since they met the previous season at the Cup of China. Clara hadn’t managed to qualify for the Final by not even a handful of points, a fact that Mila droned on and on about for days after watching the event. The Polish skater, Minka, had taken the last slot that year. So the fact that Clara had made it this year starting in 5th had Mila pumped up. Sara was even excited. Though after competing for so many years, a fresh face to the roaster was always a welcome sight. Helped keep things fresh and the skaters motivated even in the smallest ways.

Clara had taken them all by surprise with her performances and won silver. Mila had just barely won gold. The small margin of victory solidified the friendship and rivalry between the two skaters.

“You’ve been watching her all night,” Otabek stated. “Go talk to her already.” A small smile cracked Otabek lips. Clara stood off to the side of the room, away from the dance floor. She sipped her champagne and kept a general eye on the people on the dance floor. “She is cute.”

“Shut up,” Yuri grumbled, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. He sipped his drink, glancing at Clara.

“Then I'll do it for you.”

“Don’t you dare,” Yuri stated. He ran his fingers through his hair. “What would I even say?”

“Ask her to dance,” Otabek suggested. “This is a banquet after all.”

Yuri huffed and practically shoved his drink into Otabek hand. He adjusted his tie and checked his cufflinks. He looked to Otabek who gave a quick nod of approval. Yuri ran a hand through his hair and started walking across the dance floor. His heart pounded within his ears as he grew closer.

Her phone rang and just as he approached she hurried out the door.

“Hold on on… give me a moment,” Clara said in a hushed, but quivering voice.

Yuri stopped and looked to Otabek. Was she avoiding him? Or was this just some weird American way of telling somebody they weren't interested? What was he supposed to do? Follow her?

Otabek shrugged and sipped his own drink. Yuri scoffed, some wingman he was. He ran his fingers through his hair and left the banquet hall. She wasn't in the hallway. Maybe she was at the elevators? Yuri hurried. She wasn’t at the elevators. He kicked the floor out of frustration before starting to head back to the banquet.

It was just outside the bathrooms when she bumped into him. Her makeup was smeared and her eyes were red and brimming with fresh tears. They exchanged a few sentences, which resulted in Yuri walking back to the banquet alone and Clara hurrying towards the elevators.

Heather was easy to find within the crowd. At first she seemed surprised to have him talking to her, but the shock quickly turned to concern and she excused herself, shaking Yakov and Victor’s hands before hurrying out the door.

“She turn you down?” Otabek questioned once his friend returned for his drink.

“No,” Yuri huffed. He finished off what was left in the glass. Otabek sipped his own drink as they stood in silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late. Or was it early? Yuri found himself laying wide awake in his bed. His body heavy and his mind in some sort of fog. He couldn’t remember what had caused him to wake up so suddenly. He was sleeping just fine up until a moment ago and now he was blankly staring up at the void that was his dark hotel room. Perhaps it was the dream that had since escaped his memory. Yuri grunted and managed to roll onto his side, his arm dragging across the blanket as he reached for his phone. The harsh light of the screen assaulted his eyes for a moment before they adjusted.

Five in the morning.

Yuri cursed under his breath. There was no point in going back to sleep, his alarm would got off by the time he managed to get back to sleep. If he could even manage to do so. He huffed and rolled back into his previous position, staring up at the ceiling.

The bed felt cold and empty. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, scrubbing away any remnants of sleep from his eyes. It had barely been a full two days since he and Clara had decided to keep their newborn relationship discreet during the Trophee de France and it was making him anxious. And he didn’t know why. Maybe that's why slumber had suddenly abandoned him.

Yuri grunted with a sigh as his arms fell back beside him. Clara was a fairly private person as he had come to learn since her arrival in Saint Petersburg. Even now only a handful of their peers knew why she had pulled that Cinderella act nearly a year ago. Coming out of nowhere just to disappear without so much as a word to the press. He thought back to the banquet, finding it difficult to grasp that it had been nearly ten months since that night.

All he wanted was a dance back then. And now he found himself enamored with her. He rolled to face the other side of the bed, the pillow smelling very faintly of roses. He never thought he'd be so found of such a simple aroma. He huffed as he buried his face into the soft object, trying to find every trace of the scent that she had left behind.

Yuri understood why she wanted this. There was enough pressure from the competition with the press and fans constantly sniffing about. Plus with one post from Phichit or the other skaters, their relationship would be exposed if they were to do the routine they had gotten into during their stay in Paris.

It was only a few more days. Clara’s Free Program was later today. His would be tomorrow. Then they would return to Russia for a few weeks. Then there would be some form for normalcy - practice in the mornings, their private sessions, the overnight stays - until the Rostelecom Cup. The last event, his last event, leading into the Grand Prix Final.

Yuri sat up and got out of bed. If he was going to be awake, he might as well use his time wisely. He changed into a t-shirt and a pair of athletic pants. He pulled back his hair and grabbed his water bottle before heading down to the fitness center. The space was empty aside from the equipment. It was nearly five-thirty in the morning after all. He took a spot in the back space which resembled a small ballet studio with a wall of mirrors and a barre. He pulled up the music to his Free Program on his phone and put it on loop. He started with his stretches and moved into the basics. His reflection showed his sloppy form and stiff movements. If Lilia were there she’d be scolding him for such a poor performance. Yuri wasn’t focused on performance, rather the trance he found himself in while he went through the movements. It was just as calming as being on the ice once muscle memory kicked in.

“You’re up early, Yurio,” Victor’s cheerfully teasing voice cut through the music. He wore one of Yuuri’s shirts, one with a small poodle pattern, and a dark pair of sweatpants. His silver hair was done up in a messy bun.

“As are you,” Yuri retorted.

“True,” Victor put down his water bottle and started his stretches. “How long have you and Clara been together?”

The abrupt question nearly tripped up Yuri in the literal sense. “What are you talking about?”

Victor chuckled. “Are you telling me that there’s nothing between you? You showed up in Paris to meet her at the airport with roses. Plus there are those secret sessions you two were hiding from me.”

Yuri frowned, his brow furrowing. “What do you care? You’re just her coach.”

Victor took a sharp breath, Yuri’s words piercing him. “And as her coach, I have her best interest in mind,” he eventually retorted as he stood. “She’s not like the other lovers you’ve had over the years.”

“‘Lover’ is a very strong word, Vitya,” Yuri stated.

“Call it what you will, but there’s no denying the change you’ve brought out in each other,” Victor stated. “The way she looked at you before her Short Program… I’ve seen the same glimmer in Yuuri’s eyes.” He stepped toward Yuri, his eyes stern. “You’re both adults, but I want you to be careful. Her heart is still healing, Yurio.” His eyes softened. “You know how fragile a skater’s heart can be.”

Yuri took a shaking breath. “I know.” Her Short Program has displayed a gallery of overwhelming emotion. He still felt the residual emotions buzzing within him. “Vitya, she doesn’t want to be public about us right now. So keep it to yourself.”

Victor nodded. “I won’t say anything until you two are ready.” He beamed. “You two are a cute couple though. We should go on a double date sometime.”

Yuri frowned, slightly blushing. “Shut up.”


	15. All That Glimmers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Music for Clara's Free Program.](https://youtu.be/hWuRA_JvCR8)
> 
>  
> 
> The next chapter is going to be some nice fluff. /)^w^(\

The rushed rhythm of her heart pounded in her ears as her breath was quivering, struggling to move air through her lungs. She squeezed her eyes shut as warm tears ran down her face and disappeared into the pillow. Clara sharply inhaled through her nose as she dug her fingers into the sheets.

Deep breaths. In through the nose. Out from her mouth. In. Out. In. Out. Her stomach twisted and her throat tightened. Clara jolted upright, wiping the tears from her face and through her hair.

In. Out. In. Out.

Music. She needed music. She reached for her phone with trembling hands, nearly dropping the device to the floor after picking it up from the night stand along with her headphone. She finally managed to plug in her headphones after several attempts. The room was still fairly dark and it was difficult to see through her tears. She held the phone with both hands using her thumb to pull up the playlist she had painstakingly crafted for occasions such as this.

Clara closed do her eyes as the soothing music touched her ears. However, the trembling didn’t subside and her chest was still tight and the room felt like it was fading out from around her.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

Clara gripped her phone, her knuckles turning white as the music began to fall on deaf ears. Only the pounding of her heart and the rasp of her breath was all she could hear.

In. Out. In. Out.

Get it together. You’re better than this. You were doing so well, why are you falling apart now? Don't. Keep it together. Keep quiet. You don't want to wake them. They can't see you like this.

Clara got up and started pacing in front of her bed. The rink wasn't going to be open for hours. The sun was just barely coming over the horizon, hardly anything was open. She went through the movements of her routine. Her expression tense and focused as she moved her arms with what little grace and energy she could manage.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

Clara didn’t know how much time had passed when she heard somebody knocking on the door. She paused the music, not that she could hear it anyway. She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away, trying to appear normal. Like nothing happened.

“Good morning, Yuuri,” she chirped as she opened the door.

Yuuri’s brow furrowed with concern. “Good morning, Clara.” He was dressed for the day, simple jeans and long sleeve shirt. “Are you Ok?”

Clara blinked and renewed her smile. “Yeah, just fine.” She glanced at her phone. It was nearly nine in the morning. How long had she been going through her movements? “Just fine…” It was just

“Your eyes are red, Clara.”

“Hah...Yeah, I guess they are,” she said with a shaking breath.

“Nerves?”

“Something like that,” Clara sighed. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Yuuri smiled gently. “No, you didn’t. Why don’t you get dressed and we go get some breakfast?” 

Clara nodded. She wasn’t sure if her stomach could handle anything at the moment, but perhaps a cup of coffee would help. Yuuri waited patiently in the hall for her while she retreated to her room to get changed. She grabbed a dress, a hoodie and her boots. Something that didn’t require much effort to put together. “Where are we going?” she asked as they walked past the dining room and out of the hotel.

“I thought a cafe would be nice,” Yuuri said. “The hotel has been quite...active the past few days. It’s nice to get away from it.”

Clara nodded. They walked in silence down the street. Clara caught her reflection in a window as they stood at a crosswalk. Her hair was disheveled with her bangs flaring every-which-way. Her eyes were red, standing out from the dark circles and puffy eyelids that surrounded them. She combed her fingers through her hair, trying to tame it even a little. They soon arrived at a small cafe, just a few blocks from the hotel. Clara got them a table while Yuuri got them each a cup of coffee and cranberry orange scones for each of them.

“It’s been a while,” she said, breaking their mutual silence. “I thought I had a better handle on it.”

Yuuri placed his cup on the table. “It’s Ok to cry. I’ve done it plenty of times over my career. I met Yurio while crying in a bathroom in Detroit.”

Clara cracked a small smile. “I met him while leaving a bathroom in Sochi. I probably looked like a racoon.” She sipped her drink.

“Clara, if you need anything don’t be afraid to talk to us,” Yuuri stated gently. “We’re here to help you, on or off the ice.”

“I don’t mean to shut you guys out,” Clara sighed. “Just… I’m used to keeping everything to myself. I’ve been doing it for so long.”

“I know you’re a private person, Clara,” Yuuri said. “But keeping things bottled up isn’t healthy. If you’re struggling, we want to know. We can’t help you otherwise.”

Clara eyed the scone for a moment before breaking off a piece. “I was going to start competing when I was a kid. Outside of local completions that is. Then Poppo started getting sick. I decided that it’d be too much for us to handle, with the cost and the time that it requires.” She ate the small piece. “When I managed to graduate high school Poppo and I had an argument. He wanted me to compete. We had this dream that I would win gold at the Olympics when I was a kid. I guess he never forgot about it. I wanted to be responsible and go to college, but he didn't like that. ‘College can wait’,” Clara thickened her Russian accent, trying to emulate her late grandfather’s voice. “I had gotten as far as I could manage at the ice house, so I found Heather and moved to the city.” She wiped away a stray tear, her throat tightening. “When I got back into skating, it was too late for the 2014 Olympics and I was barely considered to even try out for the 2018 team. I know we're focused on the Grand Prix right now, but I have two years to work my way up to qualifying for the United States team. After that… I doubt I could make it another four years in competition to try again.”

Yuuri blinked. The Olympics? The Grand Prix Final was one thing, but the winter Olympics was a whole other beast. The skating community resorted to a bloodbath. A skater only had so many chances to qualify for such an event which made the pressure exponentially greater. Who would have thought her aspirations were so high? “I don’t suppose you’ve told Victor about this?”

Clara shook her head. “Heather didn’t even know.” She paused, breaking off another piece of her scone and taking another mouthful of coffee. “When Poppo passed away… I felt that something needed to change. Heather was able help me win silver at the Grand Prix Final, but the whole series was pushing her ability to be my coach. And after her ex left, I couldn't keep her away from her girls.” Clara chuckled softly. “Poppo came from Saint Petersburg when he was a kid and when Mila suggested I come train under Yakov and he accepted me, I thought it was a sign or something. Then I find out Victor Nikiforov bargained so he could coach me instead? I still think that I'm dreaming all of this sometimes.”

Yuuri chuckled. “I can understand that. Took me a while to wrap my head around it too. Sometimes I still can't believe I married that man.” He eyed the golden band on his hand. Yuuri smiled. “Do you want to know the secret to winning gold?” Clara raised an eyebrow as she drank her coffee. “Skate a program that you’re proud of.” Clara smiled slightly. “And even if you don’t win, you have that at least.”

“But I’m going to win.”

Yuuri chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clara tugged on her sequined gloves, her hands shaking slightly. It wasn’t as bad as this morning, public practice had helped her relax a bit. She adjusted her golden, sequined bowtie and took a deep breath. She had managed to get a short nap in between practice and now which made her feel much better. Coffee was great, but nothing could beat a decent amount of sleep.

The first group was nearly done. They’d resurface the ice, then it would be her turn to perform. Clara did the calculations, if she placed fourth or higher she had a chance to make it to the final depending how the Rostelecom Cup results panned out. But she didn’t want to leave it to chance. She was going to qualify today. Of that she was sure.

“Feeling better?” Victor asked as he handed her a stick of chapstick, mango flavored.

Clara nodded and applied a few layers of the tangy chapstick to her lips. Once she and Yuuri had gotten back from the cafe, the three of them sat down to talk. Clara basically told Victor what he had said to Yuuri during breakfast. The glimmer he had gotten in his eyes when she mentioned the Olympics had to be one of the most encouraging things she had ever come across. “Much better.” She returned the chapstick to his hand and he pulled her in for a soft hug, which she happily returned.

“Good,” Victor said as they parted, placing his hands on her shoulders. “After this we’re going to Tokyo.” He squeezed her shoulders before she stepped away to take to the ice.

Clara waved to the crowd and to the judges, her bedazzled gloves shimmering brightly in the light. She briefly spotted Yuri in the bleachers before taking a deep breath and going into her starting position.

The pounding beat of the music filled the arena and she started the routine. She felt lighter. Perhaps it was the nap or the coffee or the talk she had with both Yuuri and Victor. Sure, she still had to finish her performance and place, but somehow the pressure wasn’t as crushing as before.

“Here comes her first jump, a triple salchow… And she landed it!”

The crowd cheered.

Clara smiled and leapt into her upright spin. Her triple toe loop followed, then the combination spin. She needed to do something. Mila was ahead of her by a decent margin and even if she nailed everything in her program it was going to be close. She could raise her arms during her jumps in the second half, which was fast approaching as she moved through her step sequence. The second half was jump heavy and already pushed her over the edge when it came to her stamina. She built up speed as she came to the end of her sequence. The marathon of jumps, first up was her jump combination.

“Wait! Was that a quad axel?”

Clara smirked as she finished the combination with a double axel and a single loop. She took a deep breath as she whizzed past Victor. He hugged the poodle tissue plush tight against his chest.

Right. Here we go.

Victor gasped, nearly dropping the poodle to the floor. “Yuuri...”

“A quad flip! Amazing! Looked like she touched the ice, though.”

Clara focused as she moved into her next jump combination; a double flip-single flip. Her lungs were on fire and her energy was quickly diminishing as she came close to the end of her program, but she needed to do this. Especially if she was going to surpass Mila.

Quad salchow-single salchow combination. Her blade slipped, but she caught herself before completely colliding with the ice, gracefully swinging herself upright as she built up momentum for her camel spin. Four quads in such quick procession was rough and she was starting to feel it everywhere, the lack of sleep probably didn’t help but she wasn’t about to let something so minor stop her. She twisted out of her spin and moved into her last jump combination for the program.

“A triple lutz followed by a double. She nailed her last jump combination!”

Clara smiled as the crowd cheered as she finished off her program with a layback spin, flawlessly switching her feet halfway through. Arms outstretched she broke from the spin and stopped to face the judges as the music ended. She bowed and her trembling legs gave out, her knees colliding with the hard ice. She leaned back, catching her breath as she proudly punched the air and took in the applause. Clara got back on her skates and headed towards Victor who had sprinted to the gap in the barrier.

“Clara!” He shouted with outstretched arms. Clara laughed as she found herself in a bear hug and being spun around. The staff and spectators clearing away as not to be struck by her blades. “That was amazing!”

“Thanks,” Clara wheezed.

“Victor, let her breathe,” Yuuri said with concern.

“Oh, right,” Victor chuckled and gently placed Clara back on the ground. She put the guards on her blades and put on her jacket as they went to the kiss and cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bar at the hotel was abuzz with celebration and chatter.

“I can’t believe you pulled that off,” Mila huffed as she draped her arm around Clara’s shoulders, their medals clinking together. She gingerly held Clara’s medal in her hand. “Though, I must admit, gold looks good on you. I’ll make due with silver for now.”

“The Final will be interesting this year,” Victor commented.

“That’s what happens when new talent joins the fray,” Yakov stated gruffly.

“Practice is certainly going to be more heated once we get back to Russia,” Yuuri laughed nervously. “Maybe we should look into booking a different slot until after the Grand Prix Final, Victor.”

Yakov gave a curt nod. “It’s something to look into.”

Another celebration took place the following night, upon Yuri winning gold. Phichit took silver and Leo took bronze. It was as lively as the night before, but most called it an early night since they had flights leaving the following day. Which left Yuri and Clara fairly alone in the hotel bar, tucked away in one of the farthest corners and away from prying eyes.

“Gold looks good on you too,” Clara said.

“Hm,” Yuri hummed as he stroked her hair. His mind was fuzzy. He had lost track of how much he had drank during their celebration, but he knew it was a lot.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine.” He gingerly twisted Clara’s golden locks around his finger before letting it gracefully fall from his grip. Yuri caressed her head and placed a kiss on her forehead. He held his head there, taking in her faint aroma. She smelt of lavender today. “Clara?”

“Hm?”

“Can I stay in your room? I’m not sure if I can make it to mine.”

Clara blushed. “Sure, Yuri.”


	16. Giving Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara shares her Thanksgiving traditions.  
> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

“Do you really need all of this?” Yuri questioned. His arms were loaded with several cloth grocery bags.

“Uh yeah,” Clara sassed as she hit the buzzer to the condo complex. “I already had to pass on the turkey. I didn’t realize how expensive it is to get overseas.”

“Come on up,” Victor’s voice said over the intercom as the door unlocked with a buzz.

Clara opened the door and held it open for Yuri before following him into the building. She carried a few other bags in her hands. “Chicken should work just fine, though. It won’t take as long to cook either.”

They took the elevator up to Victor and Yuuri’s unit where they were warmly greeted by Bella and the husbands. It had been a few weeks since they all had returned from France and they had settled back into their usual routine after a short fight with jet lag. Today they were taking a break from skating. No rink time. No studio. Not even a trip to the gym. That could wait until tomorrow. Today they were going to slow down before the excitement of the Grand Prix Final swept them all away again with the Rostelecom cup within the next week.

Clara organized the groceries on the kitchen counters by recipe. Sweet potatoes, red potatoes, marshmallows, and various canned goods filled the space. She pulled out a small binder from her bag, filled with everything she needed to know to prepare an All-American Thanksgiving. Or at least what she could manage to pull together from the many supermarkets within Saint Petersburg. While it wasn’t technically Thanksgiving, as the holiday landed during the Rostelecom Cup, Clara figured it wouldn’t hurt to have it early.

With an apron equipped and her hair pulled back into a messy bun, Clara started preparing everything; washing, chopping, preheating. Once everything was set she put Yuri, Victor and Yuuri in charge of preparing a different side dish while she prepared the chicken. After a few hours of working around each other, bumping into one another, and Bella keeping her eyes on the floor for anything edible that would grace its surface. The chicken was the last piece to make it to the table. The tantalizing aroma of rosemary and lemon filled the dining area.

Clara carefully placed the platter that held the golden brown bird on the table between the bowl of creamy, garlic mashed potatoes and the marshmallow encrusted sweet potatoes. A plate of jellied cranberry sauce -fresh from the can- sat on the table beside a large bowl of salad and a plate of butter and herb asparagus. Yuuri looked at the table with both anticipation and dread. The amount of calories the feast before them contained was monstrous, but it would be a damn shame to let such a meal go to waste. Especially after all the work they put into it.

“This looks amazing,” Victor chimed eagerly.

Clara beamed and took her seat across from Yuri and beside Victor. “Ok, before we eat we need to give thanks.”

“Like a prayer or something?” Yuri asked as he eyed the sweet potatoes.

Clara chuckled and picked up the three popcorn kernels from her plate. “No, that’s different.” She gestured to the small, crystal dessert bowl in the center of the table. “For every kernel you have on your plate, you say something that you’re grateful for as you drop it into the bowl. Poppo would do it by age, but I think three is a good number. Otherwise we’d be here all night.” The first kernel plinked down into the bowl. “I’m grateful to have this opportunity to share this meal with you.” Plink. “My friends who support me from half a world away.” Plink. “And the new family I have found through moving here and having Victor taking me under his wing.”

“That’s so sappy,” Yuri teased with a huff.

Victor chuckled and scooped up his kernels. “I’m grateful for my husband’s love that he show me everyday. I’m grateful for the life we’ve built together these past six years. And I’m grateful and honored to have such a dedicated student, as stubborn as they may be.”

Yuuri deeply blushed and just tossed his kernels into the bowl. “I can’t top that.”

“I know you can,” Victor said with a sultry tone and winking at his flustered husband, causing the Japanese man to turn a deeper red.

“Gross,” Yuri grunted. He twiddled with a kernel between his fingertips as he thought about what to say. “I’m grateful for my family, my coach,” he paused at the last kernel, rolling it between his fingers, “and the love that I’ve been given.” His green eyes met Clara’s, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

Clara smiled back. “Now we can enjoy the meal.”

With that said, Victor carved the chicken, side dishes were passed around and plates were cluttered with massive helpings of everything. Casual and joyous conversation filled the room. Bella laid under the table, happily accepting any scraps that came her way. Once they had their fill the clean up began. Yuri and Clara divided up the leftovers three ways while the pair of husbands tackled the dishes. Yuri and Clara finished their work first and went to the terrace with their glasses of wine in hand. Saint Petersburg sparkled with life and light as the sun had settled down under the horizon. The mid-November air was brisk, their breath nearly visible before their faces. Yuri leaned against the banister, looking out at the glistening city.

“I love you.” Three simple, Russian words wistfully escaped his lips and lingered in the air. He turned his head as he heard Clara choke on her drink, sputtering and coughing as her face turned a bright red.

“Yuri,” she coughed as she shook out her sweater, trying to wipe away the wine that had escaped her lips. Yuri felt his ears burn up as he buried his face in his hand, swearing in his mother tongue. Clara set down her drink on the table as she stepped towards him. She gently guided his hand away from his beet, red face. “Did you forget that I speak Russian. Again?” Her tone was gentle, but teasing. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, Yakov, Mila, even Victor has lapses in memory when it came to the fact that she spoke their language. Especially since she conversed in English around both Victor and Yuuri just for the ease of communication.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” Yuri muttered. He avoided her eyes, his heart pounding within his ears.

Clara caressed his face, her fingers warm against his skin. The sensation sank deeper as she began gently stroking his skin with her thumb. “I love you too, Yuri,” she spoke in Russian.

His heart skipped a beat as he sharply inhaled. Yuri smiled, the tension falling from his shoulders as he pressed his lips to hers. He wrapped his arms around her, taking in her warmth and her love. She smelt of rosemary today. They parted after a few moments, Clara collecting her drink from the table. “Clara?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to come to Moscow with me?”

“I’ll have to talk with Victor, but I’d love to.”

“No need to ask,” Victor grinned from the doorway. Yuuri stood behind him with a tray with several cups of warm tea, a slight blush and sheepish grin on his face. “Go have your fun.”

“Fuck, how long have you been standing there?” Yuri spat.

Victor smiled and stepped out onto the terrace. “Long enough.” Yuuri stepped out of the apartment and placed the tray of steaming cups of green tea on the table. “Oh, Clara do you have a dress for the banquet?”

“I was just going to use the one from last year. I barely got to wear it.”

Yuuri nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Hm, I think we should still make a point to go shopping,” Victor stated. His eyes brightened. “We can find something while in Tokyo. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“I guess,” Clara shrugged as she picked up a cup of tea. “I’d like to sightsee at least. I’ve never been to Japan before.”

“Great,” Victor said excitedly. “Yuuri, do you think we’ll have time to visit Hasetsu after the Final?”

Yuuri smiled. “Of course. I’m sure we can book time at Ice Castle if needed. I’ll call tomorrow and set up reservations.”

“Perfect,” Victor chirped. “You’ll love Hasetsu, Clara. It’s such a charming town.”


	17. Easy as Pirozhki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara arrives in Moscow to cheer on her rinkmates for the Rostelecom Cup.
> 
> Follow the tag on [tumblr](http://umbreongal.tumblr.com/tagged/fragmented_snow). I post a bit of art here and there.

Another day another airport. Regardless of the country, they were always bustling and crowded. She could only imagine how busy it was the previous day, when all the skaters arrived for the Rostelecom Cup. The Yuri’s Angels instagram feed had lit up with pictures of him with his fans. Phichit’s was filled with his usual selfies while he was sightseeing. Clara found it rather amusing to be taking a domestic flight for the first time in a while, usually she traveled between continents during this time of year. She pulled her phone out of her coat pocket.

-Arrived in Moscow safely.- She messaged her coaches and Yuri.

-Great. Have fun.- Yuuri responded.

-Enjoy your lover’s getaway. Stay safe. <3- was Victor’s response.

Clara rolled her eyes at Victor’s message. Sharing a hotel room with her boyfriend for a few days while he was competing for his spot in the Grand Prix Final was hardly a vacation let alone a lover’s getaway. Knowing Yuri, most of their time would be spent at the rink or the gym with short breaks for meals much like their private sessions back in Saint Petersburg. Still, the thought tickled the farthest space of her mind. They had passed the one month mark in their relationship recently, but to celebrate something so… insignificant would be childish. One month was nothing within the realm of reality.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her from her thoughts. -He should be outside. He’ll have a sign.- Yuri’s message read. Her phone buzzed again. -See you soon.-

Clara smiled. -See you soon.-

She took a deep breath and adjusted the bags on her shoulder, a purple duffel bag and the backpack that held her skates. Clara left the terminal and made her way to the main lobby. Several people were there to greet their friends, family, and clients with signs written in a variety of languages. Clara carefully scanned through the crowd and spotted an elderly man holding a sign with ‘Novikoff’ written in English with bold, purple letters. The fact that Yuri was related to such a surly looking man was amusing. His hair mostly grey with faint remnants of his once dark hair spotting his hair and beard.

“Hello,” Clara greeted in Russian with an outstretched hand. “I’m Clara, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Nikolai tucked away the sign and changed the hand in which he held his cane. He firmly shook her hand, with a polite nod of his head and a small smile. He then turned and they left the airport to the parking lot, throwing the sign in the first trash bin they passed. “Are you hungry?” he asked once they situated themselves in the car. He reached into the back seat and placed a paper bag in her lap. “I brought some pirozhki. Yurochka said you like apple filling.”

“Thank you,” Clara said. She opened the bag and took one the pastries. It was still fairly warm, despite the heavy chill in the Moscow air. She wasn’t really hungry, but she didn’t want to be rude. It’d be such a waste to let Nikolai’s effort go to waste. She took a hearty bite, the fluffy pastry and the sweet apples tickling her taste buds. Her heart swelled with a cocktail of emotions as the taste brought forth memories of her own grandfather’s baking. Sitting in the kitchen, whether it was at the house or the bakery, watching and helping him prepare the baked goods. Or coming home from a session at the rink to a fresh batch of cookies. “Vkusno,” she said happily after swallowing her first bite and the lump of emotion in her throat.

Nikolai nodded in response to the complement. “It’s good for a woman to have an appetite. Don’t see that in many of your age.” Clara chuckled and took another bite. “Do you have a favorite filling?”

“They’re all great,” Clara said. Her grandfather would use anything as filling, usually leftovers. The Thanksgiving leftovers were the best. “I really like potatoes and cheese.”

Nikolai let out a hearty chuckle. “Good. Good.”

The air between them lightened as Clara realized that she had been fairly tense since stepping off the plane. She was meeting Yuri’s family and visiting his hometown after all. How could she not be nervous?

The rest of the car ride was relatively quiet. Most of the conversation that took place being about her background, where she was from, how she met Yuri, what her hobbies were. Yuri met up with them in the hotel lobby, which was rather empty now that the initial excitement from the skaters’ arrival had worn off. He greeted her with a warm smile, both from his lips and his emerald eyes. Clara wanted to just wrap her arms around him, but restrained herself. They were still trying to keep their relationship relatively discreet. Though, meeting with him in the lobby of a fancy hotel with his grandfather probably wasn’t the most discreet of meetings. Yuri and Nikolai exchanged a deep, warm hug.

“Thank you for picking her up,” Yuri said. “Yakov would have my head if I skipped practice.”

“I would too,” Clara stated.

“It’s not a problem, Yurochka,” Nikolai chuckled. “Flights get delayed, it can’t be helped. It was a pleasure to meet such a fine young lady.” He clasped Yuri’s shoulder. “I should get going, I’ll see you tomorrow for your Short Program.” He motioned to the paper bag in Clara’s arms. “I brought you more pirozhki.”

Yuri smiled. “Thank you, Grandpa. Drive safely.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Clara said politely.

Nikolai nodded and left the hotel. Leaving the two of them to each other’s company. They were fortunate to have the elevator to themselves. Their lips met as the doors closed, taking advantage of their momentary privacy. Warmth radiated through Clara’s body from her lips as they gently locked with Yuri’s. They broke apart as the elevator slowed to a stop as they approached their floor. Clara hooked her pinky onto Yuri’s as they walked down the warmly lit hall to Yuri’s room. The room was standard in layout aside from the single bed that sat in the middle of the room. Clara found her chest tightening as she hugged the bag of pastries to her being. She slowly released her breath, trying to calm herself down. They had shared a room for several nights back in Paris. She frequently stayed the night at Yuri’s apartment and he spent just as many at hers. So why was this making her so anxious?

“There should still be some room in the mini fridge,” Yuri said. “I didn’t think he’d make a whole other batch just for you. I was planning on sharing the ones he made yesterday.” He opened the mini fridge and took out a protien drink. Clara stuck the bag of pastries into the small appliance. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine, once I actually got on the plane. How was practice?”

“It was fine. I think the fact that you won gold in France has Mila nervous. She was pretty tense.” He chugged the drink and threw the empty bottle into the trash bin. “I see you brought your skates.” He teased with a grin.

“I swear Victor would not let me leave my apartment without them,” Clara huffed.

“I’m glad they didn’t tag along,” Yuri said. “It’ll be nice to get away from them for a bit.”

“I’m sure they’ll keep busy, it’s Yuuri’s birthday this week after all.” Clara rubbed her neck and put her bags on the bed. “So… What’s the plan for the night?”

“Mila, Otabek and I were thinking about getting some dinner later.” He glanced at the alarm clock. “Pretty soon, actually.”

Clara nodded. “Sounds like fun.”

“Was there anything you wanted to do while we were here?” Yuri asked. “This is your first time in Moscow, right?”

“I wouldn’t mind going to Red Square. I haven’t thought past that, really.”

“We could go after practice tomorrow,” Yuri said. “We’ll have plenty of time before Mila’s Short Program.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Clara smiled.

Yuri took a quick shower before they met with Mila and Otabek in the lobby of the hotel. The two of them were some of the few people who knew about their relationship. Yuri and Clara did share a rink with Mila after all and Otabek was Yuri’s closest friend.

“Welcome to Moscow, Clara,” Mila greeted with a hug.

“How was your flight?” Otabek asked, his voice flat but oddly friendly.

“It was fine, had a slight delay, but I made it,” Clara chuckled. “So where are we eating?”

“There’s a restaurant nearby,” Otabek said. “I thought it’d be best to avoid a bar for now.”

Mila huffed. “You know I don’t drink before a competition, Beka.”

“Not after that one time,” Yuri teased, resulting in Mila punching him in the arm. “We should get going if we’re going to make the reservation.”

The four of them split a cab. Clara found herself squished in the back seat between Mila and Yuri while Otabek rode up front. Clara spent the entire ride with her fingers entwined with Yuri’s and kept their pinkies hooked once they reached the restaurant. It was a simple establishment, cozy and homey in it’s atmosphere. It was far from the bars and clubs they would visit on occasion back in Saint Petersburg and the fancy restaurants that Victor would treat them to while they were abroad. The four of them squeezed into a booth, Mila and Otabek on one side and Clara and Yuri on the other.

“So how much longer are the two of you going to keep this quiet?” Mila teased.

“At least until the Grand Prix Final is over,” Yuri said. “We don’t need any unnecessary distractions.”

Clara nodded. “The press has finally stopped asking me about what happened last year.”

“It’s about time,” Mila stated. “What matters you’re here to compete this year. So I can beat you again.”

“Pfft, you have to qualify first, Mila,” Clara sassed.

“You know I will. Have been for the past few years.”

“Don’t get cocky, Mila,” Otabek commented. He looked to Clara, taking his eyes off of his menu for a moment. “Clara is just as skilled. You barely beat her last year. With Victor as her coach, it only make sense that she’ll place.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Beka,” Mila huffed.

Clara chuckled. Conversation soon shifted from skating to other topics as their meals arrived. Clara was glad that even among other skaters they could find something else to talk about. As much as she hated to admit it, the pressure only grew stronger as the Grand Prix Final edged ever closer. It was only a matter of weeks now until the final competition, then she’d get a brief break to prepare for Nationals back in America in the new year. It was hard to believe that it had been nearly eight months since she uprooted herself and moved halfway across the world. But thinking back on it, she wouldn’t have done it any differently.

After dinner they all decided to walk back to the hotel. Clara kept her hand entwined with Yuri’s as they walked together. Large, soft snowflakes fluttered from the dark sky and started to cover the city in a frosty blanket. The nice part about their chosen sport was that it had such a niche audience that they were able to walk down the street without much concern. Most of the attention that they would get would be at the event itself with some trickling over into the hotel. So for now the two of them appeared as the average young couple. Clara enjoyed their time outside of the rink as much as she enjoyed their time on the ice.

“You two have fun now,” Mila teased once they made it back to the hotel lobby.

“Shut up, Mila,” Yuri spat at her as they made their way to the elevators, leaving Mila with Otabek.

Clara found her heartbeat increased with every floor they climbed. The cause of which she had no clue. Or did she? The thought left her mind as Yuri whisked her away to his room. Their room. He planted a deep, warm kiss on her lips as the door closed behind them. Clara melted into him, running her fingers through his fair hair as her arms caressed his neck. She squeaked as Yuri effortlessly picked her up and sat her on the bed. Yuri’s lips migrated down to her neck, nuzzling his face into the scarf still around her neck. He gently tickled her skin with the tip of his tongue and the moist warmth of his breath sent a shiver down her spine. His hands slipped under her coat and his thumb looped into pants. Clara sharply inhaled as her muscles tensed and she tightly grabbed Yuri’s wrist.

“Wait,” she muttered.

Yuri’s hands fell away as he withdrew from her neck. His ears were red and embarrassment pulled at the corners of his lips. Clara felt her heart skip a beat. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,” Clara huffed. She avoided Yuri’s eyes as she removed her scarf. “I...I just...I think we need to talk before we move farther.” She gently patted the space beside her on the bed.

“Alright.” Yuri sat on the bed beside her, his body turned to face her.

Clara took a deep breath and rubbed her neck. How was she supposed to go about this? She should have through this through a bit more. Granted, she thought she’d have a bit more time. Yuri took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Clara relaxed a bit. She’d start with the beginning. “You’re not my first boyfriend,” she started. “I dated somebody for a bit back in high school. We stayed together for a while after we graduated, but after I moved to Chicago… It fell apart.” She looked to Yuri. He said nothing, but was giving her his undivided attention. "He… had needs that I couldn’t… er wouldn’t fulfill.” A lump formed in her throat as her face turned red. “I thought it was weird, but… I’m not really interested in having… relations.” She dug her fingers into the comforter. “I treasure the time we spend together and I really do love you, but...I don’t… I mean…”

Yuri squeezed her hand again. “It’s fine, Clara.” He brought her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you’re not ready-”

“What if I’m never ‘ready’?” Clara blurted. “I...I don’t want to waste your time.”

Yuri’s brow furrowed. “Waste my time? Clara, you can never waste my time. I don’t care if we have sex or not, I just want to be with you.” His expression relaxed. “We won’t do anything that you’re not comfortable with. I trust that you’ll tell me what that is, just like you did now.”

Clara smiled, releasing an anxious breath and blinking back the tears that pricked her eyes. “Thank you, Yuri.” She leaned toward them and their foreheads gently met. Yuri simply squeezed her hand again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been debating for a long time whether or not Clara and Yuri would have sex and came to the conclusion of "meh". A sexual relationship between them isn't really important to the story. It still could happen, but it's not a priority.  
> Also, Clara is asexual/demisexual she just doesn't know the term for it.


	18. Reservations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clara and Yuri have a quiet day out before the start of the Rostelecom Cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. It was a struggle to write and I've been sick for a few weeks.

Clara woke up to the heavy click of the door. She lifted her face from the plush surface of the pillow and squinted towards the door with tired eyes. She ran her fingers through her honey-blonde hair and yawned. “What time is it?” Her words slurring together as her body struggled to boot up for the day.

“It’s nearly ten,” Yuri chuckled as he placed a warm kiss on her forehead.

Clara smiled softly as the scent of sweat and deodorant tickled her nose. “Did I miss practice?”

“You’re on vacation.”

“Not until April. I wanted to see you practice.” Clara playfully pouted.

“You were tossing and turning all night, I figured you could use the extra sleep.” Yuri took off his jacket, tossing it onto the chair in the corner. “Is something bothering you? You were muttering a lot in your sleep.”

Clara hugged the pillow close to her as she bit her lip. “Did I keep you up all night?”

“No, you only woke me when you punched me or kicked me.” His tone was playful and teasing. Yuri sat on the bed. “You smacked me in the face once.”

“Sorry.” Clara muttered. “You need sleep more than I do.”

“It’s fine,” Yuri assured her, rubbing her back right between her shoulder blades. He could feel her body relax, nearly melting into the sheets.

Clara rolled onto her side so she could see Yuri’s face. His hair was still pulled back with a few flyaway strands sticking to his neck in the glistening remnants of sweat on his fair skin. Yakov must have worked him hard if this is how he returned from the rink. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Did you have… plans when you invited me?” Clara looked at him with wary eyes.

“You mean sex?” Clara nodded as her eyes darted away to the window again. Yuri rubbed his neck and huffed. “I’d be lying if I said I didn't.”

“Oh.” Clara sighed. She couldn’t quite place a finger on what emotion was bubbling up inside her. Guilt? Doubt? Despite Yuri’s words the previous night, she still felt this sense of unease loitering within her mind. Was she being selfish?

“Falling asleep on me?” Yuri asked softly.

“No,” Clara opened her eyes and looked toward the window. She sat up, pushing down the intrusive thoughts into the depths of her mind. She rested her forehead on Yuri’s shoulder, taking in a deep breath of his musk.

Clara found it amusing how much of an effect that Yuri’s presence had on her. How his slightest touch would cause her to relax. How his low, rumbling laugh would send her heart aflutter. Or how that mischievous spark in his eyes would set her spirit a flame. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but Yuri made her feel at home regardless of where she was. This feeling had only just come to light, only recently realizing how alone she was feeling despite being surrounded by nothing but love and support. Especially within this past year. Part of her enjoyed having Yuri with her. Something about him made her feel at ease. Another part of her, however, ridiculed how quickly she found herself pining for his presence whenever they were apart. She had gone several years without a boyfriend, so she should be fine being alone for a few days. Right?

“Can we go sightseeing?” Clara asked.

Yuri ran his fingers through Clara’s hair. “I need to shower first.”

“Hm. I suppose I should too.”

“We can share,” Yuri said in a sensual, but playful, tone. “It’d save time.” Clara lifted her head and glared at him, though a touch of pink did touch her cheeks. Yuri kissed her forehead apologetically. “It was worth a shot.”

“You’re worse than Victor,” Clara teased.

“Tsk,” Yuri frowned for a moment, only slightly annoyed by the remark. “Do you want to get in first?”

Clara shook her head. “I’m going to make coffee first.”

“Fair enough.” Yuri kissed her head again and got up from the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Clara soon had a small cup of coffee in one hand and what turned out to be a katsudon pirozhki in the other. She absentmindedly sipped her coffee and bit into the pastry while she looked out at Moscow through the room’s window. Yuri soon finished his shower and stepped out in one of the hotel’s fluffy, white robes.

“Where would you like to go first?”

“I just want to make it to Red Square, other than that I’m not picky,” Clara smiled. “It’s my first time in Moscow after all.”

Yuri’s brow furrowed for a moment as he thought. “Alright. I’m sure I can manage something.”

“Great.” Clara planted a kiss on his cheek, the faint stubble on his face tickled her lips. She briefly stroked it and went into the bathroom for a quick shower.

Soon they found themselves on the streets of Moscow with their fingers woven together as they strolled toward Red Square. Snow was still sprinkling down from the gray sky and covering the city. They had a few hours until Mila would take the ice for the Ladies event.

“Did you want to do some shopping?” Yuri asked while they paused for Clara to take a few pictures. “GUM Department Store isn’t that far from Red Square.”

“I guess,” Clara shrugged. “I don’t really like shopping.”

“Really? You bought a lot of stuff in Paris.”

“Those were for Krystal and Nikki,” she clarified, putting her phone back in her coat. “I don’t like shopping for myself…?” Clara shrugged. “I don’t really need anything.” She shoved her bare hands into her pockets and hunched her shoulders.

“Well, we can go in to warm up a bit,” Yuri smiled. “We can get some hot chocolate. Or coffee.”

Clara smirked. “I like coffee.”

“Coffee it is,” Yuri chuckled and pulled her close with a hand on her shoulder.

On the outside the expansive building resembled more of a palace than the shopping mall that it held within its wall, certainly a change from the conglomerate structures Clara was familiar with back in America. Inside was festively decorated and in full swing for Christmas with a winter wonderland. Clara clung to Yuri, not wanting to get lost in the crowd.

“Your birthday is coming up soon, right?” Yuri inquired while they waited in line for one of the cafes.

Clara furrowed her brow while she squinted her eyes, trying to get her brain to decode the Russian menu. “Hm? Oh. Yeah. It’s during the Final though.”

“The thirteenth, right? Did you want anything? Or do anything?”

Clara looked to Yuri. “Uh… No… Um. I’m fine. We can just do something after the Final. Or Christmas.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “I want to do something for your birthday, Clara.”

Clara fidgeted with her scarf. “Sorry. I usually don’t celebrate on my birthday. More important things come up.”

“When was the last time you celebrated?” Yuri’s heart sank as silence fell between them as Clara paused their conversation to think.

“Like, on my actual birthday? It’s been… a while.” Clara shrugged and attempted to read the menu again.

“All the more reason to celebrate,” Yuri stated.

Clara huffed. “I just want to focus on the Grand Prix Final.”

Her words were cold and had an edge to them. Yuri frowned, but ultimately decided to not press the issue. He could feel that she was keeping him at a distance today. It was frustrating especially after the step forward they took the night before. However, the last thing he wanted was for them to argue in the middle of a shopping mall. “Have you figured out what you want to drink?”

Clara sighed and pinched her nose. “Apparently I can’t read today. You can pick for me.”

“Have a taste for anything?”

“Coffee.”

Yuri chuckled. “Of course.”

Yuri ordered a hot chocolate for himself and a latte for Clara. With their warm beverages in hand they strolled through the mall, occasionally stopping to peer into the shops through the windows. Yuri found himself enjoying Clara’s fingers entwined with his as they walked. He had found that Clara liked casual affections and gestures; the holding of hands, playing with her hair, even the smallest of smiles or the slightest peck to her cheek. Even if she was keeping him at an arm’s length emotionally, he was glad to have this physical closeness. Perhaps it was the stress of competition. Even if Clara wasn’t competing, the results of the Rostelecom Cup could affect her standings in the Grand Prix Final. It was also no secret that while they were friends, she and Mila were rivals on the ice. Having Clara move to their rink had lit some kind of fire within Mila and it showed through her performances. Clara winning gold in Paris had only increased the intensity. Yuri knew the Final was going to be interesting, whether Mila made the cut or not.

They took a break from window shopping to stop on one of the many bridges to people watch the crowd below them. Clara leaned into Yuri, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Tired?” Yuri asked.

Clara shook her head and looked up at him. For some reason he felt that she was reaching out to him with the slightest glimmer in her blue eyes. Yuri shifted and placed a soft kiss on her lips. A soft sigh left Clara’s lips as they parted after a few short moments. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Shutting you out,” Clara sighed. “I’m trying to get better about not doing that. Yuuri said I shouldn’t keep things bottled, but it’s a hard habit to break.”

Yuri kissed her forehead. “It’s fine.”

“It’s really not,” Clara muttered.

“We’ll work through it,” Yuri assured her. “Honestly, I’m not all that great this whole… relationship thing.”

“Neither am I,” Clara chuckled.

“We’re both hopeless then,” Yuri smirked.

“Hopelessly in love,” Clara stated sensually.

Yuri sputtered a laugh. “Now you’re worse than Vitya.”

“We’re even then.” Clara lifted herself onto her toes and kissed Yuri. “We should get back soon. I don’t want to miss the Short Program.”

Yuri simply nodded as he found himself in a slight haze from Clara’s kiss. He took her hand and they started walking again. They disposed of their empty coffee cups as they left the mall and started making their way toward the arena. Clara took their passes from her purse and they hung them around their necks as they entered the building through the competitor's entrance.

Journalists and event staff were abuzz with activity. The journalists were wrapped up with interviewing the evening’s competitors. Clara was relieved that she wasn’t in the spotlight tonight. She was never great at interviews, constantly stumbling over her own tongue as she struggled to answer the questions thrown her way. Heather would help her avoid the press back when they traveled together. However, since Victor became her coach she found herself in many more interviews. It was the price of having a world famous coach, Clara figured.

Mila broke away from the crowd of reporters and hurried over to the two of them. Clara greeted her with a friendly hug. “I’m glad you made it. Did you enjoy your date?”

“It was nice,” Clara chuckled as the two of them broke apart. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” Mila smiled. “I swear it took me three attempts to get my makeup right. My hands kept shaking.” She held out a hand, a slight tremble.

“I know you’ll make the cut, Mila,” Clara assured her, clasping her hand. She could feel Mila relax, even if it was only slightly. “You’ve been practicing non-stop since Paris.”

Mila let out a sigh. “Some rival you are. Encouraging me like this.”

“It wouldn’t be a Grand Prix Final without you,” Clara stated. “It’s going to be hard to kick your butt when you’re not there.”

“Very true.” Mila chuckled. She pulled Clara into a tight hug. “I need to get back to Yakov and you should get to your seats. Otabek should have some saved for you.”

Clara returned the hug and they went their separate ways. The event went quickly, Mila standing in second place by the end of the Short Program. The four of them got a quick dinner together and spent a few hours at the hotel bar. They hardly drank, each nursing a bottle of beer, but enjoyed each other’s company until the later hours of the evening.

Yuri and Clara made their way back to their room. Yuri changed into his pajamas in the washroom as Clara changed in the room. Few words were exchanged as they went to bed, Clara wrapping her arms around Yuri’s body.


	19. Rinkside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. Only one more chapter in Moscow then it's off to the GPF.

Classical music filled Clara’s ears as her blades struck the ice as she practiced the step sequences of her short program, skillfully avoiding the children ahead of her. Some slowed to a stop to watch her from the barrier with wide eyes and huge smiles. A warmth sparked within her as she did a triple axel. She could hear their gasps even through her music. Maybe it was a bit vain, but she enjoyed showing off in front of kids. Their sparkling eyes and faces of pure amazement were always something she enjoyed. She was one of those kids at one point herself. The fact that her peers could make her feel that spark of inspiration to this day was one of the many reasons why she had kept going.

Mila’s performance had only improved since Paris, which made Clara’s skin itch within such a way where only the sound of her blades gliding across the ice could soothe it. Part of it was nerves, only a few more days until she would know for sure if she would be going to Tokyo for the Grand Prix Final after all. She also needed to practice, even if it was a little bit.

Clara only left the ice when the public skate had closed. She tended to her skates, clearing the shavings and drying her blades before putting on the guards and carefully putting them in her bag. A small set of shoes came into view and Clara looked up from her bag to see a girl, around the age of eight or nine, standing nervously in front of her.

“Hello,” Clara spoke in Russian with a smile. She blinked as the girl suddenly began searching her bag and pulled out a small, blue book. Several pieces of paper had corners sticking out at various points within the pages. The girl fumbled with the tiny book as her hands shook, causing the book to fall on the floor. Clara carefully picked it up. “Did you want me to sign this?”

The girl shyly nodded and held out a metallic marker. “Yes please.”

“Sure thing,” Clara smiled, gently taking the marker into her hand. She opened the book, the pages of which were covered with cute stickers and a lot of glitter. She looked through the pages and found that they were all pictures of her, some were clippings from magazines and others were obviously printed off from a home computer. She went back to the beginning of the book. “What’s your name?”

“Quinn,” she muttered.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Quinn.” Clara wrote a simple, yet inspiring, message in Russian before signing her name in English cursive and a cute little cartoon fox. “Would you like to take a photo?” She asked as she returned the book and marker to Quinn.

Quinn’s eyes widened as she nodded. She took her phone out from her pocket. The two of them posed while Clara held out the phone to take the picture. Quinn stared at the picture in awe. “Thank you.” A slight blush colored her cheeks. “Can you...Would you watch me skate? Just for a little bit?”

Clara checked the time on her phone, she still had time until she would meet Yuri and the others for lunch. “I can stay for a little bit.”

An excited squeal escaped Quinn’s lips as she ran over to an older woman. The woman shot a look at Clara, but her expression relaxed as she gave into the girl’s charms. Clara watched from the barrier in the rink, her hand on her chin as Quinn danced across the ice. Her step sequences were shaky and her spins traveled quite a bit, but Clara still found herself enamored with the performance. Quinn looked to her as she finished her program, much to the annoyance of her coach. Clara smiled and gave a small round of applause.

“Wonderful!” Clara cheered in Russian. “Keep it up!” Quinn beamed and looked to her coach. Clara leaned on the top of the barrier as she continued to spectate.

“Here you are.” Clara jumped and turned to see Yuri coming through the door. “I’ve been trying to call you.”

“Sorry, my phone’s in my bag,” Clara said sheepishly. “It needs to charge for a bit. How was practice?”

“It was fine,” Yuri placed a kiss on her cheek. “How was yours?”

“Relaxing,” Clara said. “Worked out some of my nerves.”

“Only some?” Yuri teased as he picked up her bag and slung it on his shoulder. “Otabek and Mila are waiting for us at the restaurant.”

“Just a moment,” Clara turned back to the rink. “Quinn! I have to go now! Keep up the great work!”

Quinn waved then froze, her jaw dropping as Yuri wrapped an arm around Clara’s waist as the couple left the rink. Clara rested her head on Yuri’s shoulder as they took a taxi to the restaurant. “Your grandpa is coming tonight, right?”

“He should be,” Yuri said. “Did you want to watch with him? He usually watches with Yakov.”

“I’m fine watching from the bleachers,” Clara said.

“Alright then.”

“Did you want me to watch with your grandpa?”

“Well, he really likes you so I think he’d be a bit disappointed if you stayed in the bleachers.”

“He likes me?” Clara blushed.

“Of course. What’s not to like?”

Clara chuckled and wrapped her arms around Yuri’s, squeezing tight as she pushed a flood of negative thoughts from her mind.

They had a nice lunch with Otabek and Mila and soon enough she found herself back at the event venue with Mila.

“So you’re watching rinkside tonight?” Mila teased. “Quite the big step for you two.”

“I just thought it’d be polite to watch with Yuri’s grandpa. Can you save us some seats though? I don’t plan on hanging around for the interviews.”

“You and your secret relationship,” Mila chuckled. “Sure, I’ll save some seats.”

Clara waited with Yuri as Yakov waited for Nikolai to arrive. She fussed with Yuri’s hair, constantly redoing the partial ponytail, occasionally braiding small sections.

Yuri took her hands, gently kissing them. “I’m supposed to be nervous, not you.”

Clara relaxed slightly as she took a deep breath. “I know.”

“Yurochka,” Nikolai greeted as he came into the small room with Yakov.

“Grandpa,” Yuri sprung to his feet, not yet in his skates and enveloped the elderly man with a strong hug. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss your skating if I could help it.” Nikolai returned the hug with a hearty chuckle. They parted and Nikolai acknowledged Clara with a smile and a nod. “Hello Clara.”

“It’s nice to see you again,” Clara smiled as she brushed her bangs out of her face. “Thank you for the pirozhki, they were delicious.”

Nikolai chuckled. “It’s my pleasure.”

As the pair skating event came to a close, the male skaters for the singles started their stretches and warming up. Yuri was part of the second group so they had a bit of time. Clara helped him with his stretches where she could, but tried to keep her distance while the press was around. Time passed quickly and soon the four of them found themselves rinkside. Yuri removed his jacket to reveal his outfit, a gothic punk sort of get up with a black “leather” vest with studded shoulders, collar, and belt. Mesh fabric covered his chest chest and arms and black fingerless gloves covered his hands. Yuri handed his jacket over to Clara who found herself clinging to it as Yuri removed the guards from his blades and stepped onto the ice. Yakov stood at the barrier while Clara and Nikolai hung back.

“Don’t focus on the jumps as much” Yavok said sternly.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Yuri huffed as he rolled his head, trying to work out the last of his nerves. He took a deep breath and his eyes met with Clara’s.

“Davai,” Clara stated.

Yuri’s shoulders relaxed as a soft smile came to his lips. He gave a quick thumbs up and took his place on the ice. The music was an original piece, something Otabek had put together for Yuri. It was a wild ride with a pounding beat that shook the arena and an intensity and ferocity that only Yuri could match with his skating. Clara found herself releasing a long held breath as Nikolai gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He smiled down at her before returning his attention to his grandson. Clara relaxed, now remembering to breathe but still hugging Yuri’s jacket. She bit her lip as Yuri approached the last jump in his program, a triple axel. He over rotated and tumbled onto the ice.

“Yuri,” Clara gasped, burying her face into his jacket. He attempted a quad again. He was still being inconsistent with landing the jump cleanly. She looked up as the music ended and Yuri nailed his final pose. Clara approached the barrier as Yuri skated back over to them, Yakov was muttering in frustration under his breath.

The ferocity on Yuri’s face melted away as he approached. Clara blinked as Yuri pulled her in with a hand around her waist and lifted her chin to place a passionate kiss on her lips. Her eyes widened as cameras began flashing and chatter erupted. She tore away, sending Yuri backward onto the ice. Her face turned red as Yuri looked at her with annoyance that quickly turned to one of concern and realization. They said nothing as Clara helped him back to his feet and handed him his guards and jacket before rushing to the nearest bathroom with her scarf covering her face.

Yuri found himself ushered to the kiss and cry by Yakov who was nearly purple in the face out of frustration and a slight case of second-hand embarrassment. Yuri tuned out the usual lecture as his results came in, which caused the vein in Yakov’s forehead bulge even more. He pushed past the press as he returned to the waiting area where Mila waited with Otabek, who had already changed back into his street clothes. His eyes met Mila’s and she stepped toward him.

“Where’s Clara?”

“Your Grandpa took her back to the hotel,” Mila said calmly, though she nervously rubbed her neck. “She uh… I figured that would be a better than hanging around here.”

Yuri sighed and rubbed his temples as he swore under his breath. He quickly changed out of his skates, replacing them with his tennis shoes. “Can you distract Yakov?”

“Of course, he’ll be busy with the press anyway.” Mila gave a quick nod and a playful smirk. Yuri nodded in thanks as he grabbed his bags and hurried to hail the first cab he saw.

The short ride back to the hotel felt like an eternity. Once they pulled up to the building he rushed out of the vehicle, nearly forgetting to pay the tab. He sighed in relief as he saw Nikolai sitting in the lobby, like he was waiting for him.

“Grandpa,” Yuri sighed. “Where’s Clara?”

“She’s in your room.” Nikolai stated simply, with a slight look of disapproval. “She asked me to leave.” The older man huffed. “She was wheezing during the whole ride, couldn’t speak a single word.” Yuri pinched his nose. More out of frustration with himself than anything. Nikolai firmly clasped his shoulder. “We can postpone dinner, Yurochka.”

Yuri nodded. “I’m sorry.” He gave his grandfather a quick hug before taking an anxious ride in the elevator. The door clicked open and revealed a dark and empty hotel room. Clara’s coat and scarf were thrown onto the floor, but there was no other sign of her within the room. Yuri set down his bag and removed his coat. “Clara?” Nothing. He raised an eyebrow as his eyes caught a splinter of light escaping the bathroom. He gently knocked. “Clara?” Again, nothing. He carefully turned the doorknob, finding it to be unlocked he poked his head in.

Clara sat on the floor, knees hugged tightly to her chest with her phone clutched in her shaking hand. In fact, her whole body trembled as she struggled to breathe, her face red and her eyes swollen from crying. Yuri quietly closed the door and dug his phone from his coat pocket. There were a few missed calls, all from Yakov. Yuri sighed as he scrolled through his contacts. His foot tapped impatiently as the phone rang a few times.

“Yurio,” Yuuri’s voice came through. “What’s going on? We saw the kiss.”

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Figures.” He took a deep breath, glancing at the bathroom door. “Hey, Katsudon, how… How should I approach somebody having a panic attack?”

There was a slight pause. “It depends on the person, really.” Worry suddenly came to the man’s voice. “Is Clara Ok?” A long silence. “Yurio, is Clara Ok?” His voice was stern, almost paternal.

“No… She’s… She’s curled up in the bathroom right now,” Yuri began to pace the room. “I screwed up and I want to fix it. I just don’t want to do anything to make things worse. Did her old coach tell you anything?”

“About her anxiety? Not really,” Yuuri stated. “I tried talking to her after Paris, apparently Clara managed to keep that side of her hidden.” Yuri grumbled in frustration. “Just stay with her for now. If it’s bad, she might not be responsive.”

“Right. Thanks, Katsudon.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be of much help, Yurio.”

“It’s fine. I’ll text you when she’s feeling better.”

“Alright.”

Yuri ended the call and tossed his phone onto the bed. He poked his head back into the bathroom to see Clara in the same state. It had only been a few minutes after all. He slowly stepped closer and sat down beside her. Her music was on full blast, leaking from her headphones. Her eyes were vacant and idly staring at the tile floor. Yuri carefully wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Her body trembled under his touch. He gently pulled her close. She tensed up for a moment before relaxing. Clara blinked and glanced at him, blinking back tears.

“I’m sorry.” Yuri said. Clara only leaned in closer, turning to wrap her arms around Yuri. He stroked her hair while they sat in relative silence on the bathroom floor. Several minutes passed and Clara’s breathing steadied and her body stopped trembling. He said nothing else. She seemed to respond to touch, her leaning in and embracing him made that fairly obvious. Yuri still didn’t say anything as time passed. He just held her as they sat on the tile floor of the bathroom.

His heart felt heavy seeing Clara in such a state and knowing he was the one who triggered it weighed on his shoulders like a mountain. Yuri blinked as Clara slowly sat up and took off her headphones. Her eyes were red and her eyelids were swollen from her tears. She took a shaking breath and looked to Yuri only to sheepishly look away.

“Feeling better?” Yuri asked. Clara shrugged and huffed as she rubbed her eyes in response. “Want to get something to eat?”

“I really can’t handle any food right now,” Clara muttered.

Yuri nodded and caressed Clara’s face, her face was moist from her crying. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“Just a little bit,” Clara cracked a smile and Yuri felt some of the weight melt away. “But I’m an idiot too.”

“You can’t help having a panic attack,” Yuri said gently. “You should have told me, though.”

“I’m usually good about keeping it under control,” Clara sighed. “I just...It just snowballed.” Yuri gave a slight, understanding nod then raised an eyebrow as Clara looked at him with a quizzical look. “You’re still in your costume.” Her eyes widened. “Oh god, Yakov’s going to kill me.”

“No, no, no. He’s going to kill me.”

“He already thinks I’m a distraction,” Clara muttered, clenching her shirt just above her heart.

Yuri blinked and pulled Clara into his arms. “You’re not, Clara. If anything you’ve been pushing us to get better all season. I’ve never seen Mila so driven.” He kissed her head. “And if I get a little distracted it’s because I can’t help but watch you skate. You demand attention on the ice, it’s hard not to watch.” Clara let out a slow breath, her body relaxing in his embrace. “I’ll deal with Yakov tomorrow. For now, what would you like to do?”

“I’m not ready to eat anything. So… How about we just watch a movie or something?”

“A night in sounds nice.”

The two of them got off the bathroom floor, briefly stumbling as their legs were numb from sitting for so long. Yuri changed out of his costume and removed the makeup and hair gel with a quick shower. The rest of the night was simple and quiet. Clara had managed to find a poorly dubbed musical in the selection of movies the hotel provided. She hummed along as while they relaxed on the bed, gently braiding Yuri’s damp hair over and over again each time being a different braid. She stopped after finishing a fishtail. Yuri leaned back and rested his head in her lap. Clara smiled down at him, which he returned.

They watched another movie and ordered a light meal before turning in for the night. Clara was out as soon as her head hit the pillow. Yuri sent a quick message to Yuuri and Victor as well as Mila before joining her.


	20. Onward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rostelecom Cup comes to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's Free Program music: https://youtu.be/KpOtuoHL45Y
> 
> Sorry, this chapter took so long. Life got pretty busy and I kinda struggle with this chapter. But I'm done with school for the semester so hopefully, I'll be able to finish this by summer's end.

Clara woke up late into the morning to an empty bed but a note scribbled onto the pad of paper that sat on the side table.

‘Went to practice. See you for lunch.  
Yuri’

Clara smiled and buried her face back into the pillow. Her head still ached and her body felt heavy. Part of her was glad she wasn't the one performing tonight as she had lost several rounds to the blankets during the night. After a few more minutes she managed to hoist herself up to sit on the bed. She looked around the room and she ran her fingers through her hair. Clara sighed and picked up her phone, turning it back on. At some point during the night Yuri had taken it and turned it off. Perhaps to silence her alarm or the onslaught of social media notifications. Either way, she appreciated the gesture. As the screen lit up, her phone began to furiously vibrate and chime in her hand as all the missed calls, voicemails, texts, and various social media alerts came flooding in.

Mila, Leo, Heather and even Victor had left voice messages and texts. Clara sent Victor and Heather a brief response, just to let them know she was alright. Once those messages were sent her phone began to ring with a video call.

“Clara,” Leo’s face appeared on her screen. His hair was damp and messy. Whether it was from exercise or a shower, Clara couldn’t tell.

“Hey Leo,” Clara said, struggling to hold back a yawn. “What are you still doing up? Isn’t it late over there?”

“It’s fine. I just… I wanted to check in on you.”

Clara smiled a bit. “I’m fine now. Just sort of… had an episode.”

“Did the music help?”

She nodded. “It did. I kept it going even after I couldn't hear it. It’s a really good selection.”

“We have similar tastes.” Leo chuckled. A pause came between them for a moment. “So...uh… If you don’t mind my asking...when did you and Yurio…?”

“Paris.” Clara rubbed her neck sheepishly. “I just wanted us to focus on the Grand Prix Final. The fact that we’re together would have just caused a distraction.”

Leo snorted with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I get that. We’ve all seen the drama first hand that can come from relationships on and off the ice.” He let out a small yawn. “I’m glad you’re coming out of your shell again. I can really tell when you skate.”

Clara blushed. “What?”

“Remember when you broke up with whats-his-face? You threw every spare moment you had into skating and when you weren’t at the rink you were at the dance studio. Heather basically had to ground you for a week just so your feet could recover from the blisters.”

“His name was Jonah,” Clara stated.

“The point is, Clara, that I could tell you were heartbroken. And after your grandpa passed away… I was worried you wouldn’t come back.”

Clara would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit the thought had once crossed her mind after returning home to manage her grandfather’s final affairs. She managed to get this far through hard work and the support of her chosen family, which included several small sponsorships. But her grandfather was her biggest fan, even when his memory would lapse when she’d visit. His room was covered in pictures, articles, and blurbs about her skating. Packing those away was what gave her the push to go back initially.

Hard to believe all of that was nearly a year ago.

“Skating is all I have,” Clara’s voice cracked. “It’s all I ever wanted to do. I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave again.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Leo stated. “Though, the fact that you left me in Chicago still stings.”

Clara chuckled. “I’ll come by sometime in the offseason. We can go bar hopping or something.”

“I could get us Hamilton tickets.”

“Do not tease me like this, Leo.”

“If it guarantees a visit, I’ll do it. Pretty sure I can pull a few strings. Bring Yurio with you if you can manage.”

Clara smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

\-------------

After her chat with Leo, Clara managed some sort of workout in the hotel’s recreation center. Mostly working on her core with a bit of cardio. She still felt a bit drained, though mostly emotionally, by the end of it but she felt a bit better. She managed a quick shower and started studying her own performances as well as watching Mila’s Short Program from the other night. Clara still couldn’t believe how many quads she pulled off with her previous performance. Granted some of her landings were sloppy, which she and Victor had been working on in the weeks since Paris, which she could see in the various videos that Yuuri had recorded during her sessions. Mila’s own programs has become more polished over the course of the season as well. Especially in the choreography and overall performance, which were her strong suits when it came to skating.

Yurio hobbled into the room with two cups of coffee from a nearby cafe around noon. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough,” Clara said, her eyes fixed on one of the cups of coffee. Yuri smirked and gave her the one marked with her name. He set his down on the desk and gently placed his bag on the floor as Clara took a sip. “How was practice?”

“I think Yakov was taking his frustration out on me,” Yuri grunted as he peeled off his shoes to reveal his white socks that were spotted with blotches of blood. He sighed and began removing layers until he was standing shirtless before Clara. A view in which she had no problem with. “I’ll be quick with the shower, then we can go to lunch.”

“Fine, but I’m taking care of that before we go,” she motioned to Yuri’s feet.

“You don’t have to.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“If you didn’t kick me in the face,” Yuri teased.

Clara shrugged. “I warned you that I’m ticklish.”

“Failed to mention that you get violent,” Yuri chuckled.

Clara smirked playfully. “Go take your shower.”

“Fine. Fine.” He shuffled into the bathroom and took a quick shower. After which Clara took the time to treat his sores, gently coating them in an ointment and covering them with tiger-striped bandages.

\-------------

The day went quickly and was uneventful. Mila was sitting in second place by the time the Free Programs ended. Which was cause for celebration as Mila and Clara had easily made the final cut for the Grand Prix.

Clara felt the tension fall from her shoulders upon seeing the scores. She let out a sigh of relief. “Looks like we’re going to Tokyo,” she said quietly to Yuri.

“I’ll see you there,” Yuri smiled, giving her hand a squeeze.

Once Mila managed to get away from the press and change her clothes their little pack made their way to a small bar. Mila immediately downed an inexpensive beer and ordered around for their table.

“I hope you like the look of silver, Clara,” Mila playfully teased as she flaunted the medal that she hung proudly from her neck. “It’s all you’ll be seeing at the Final.”

“We’ll see about that,” Clara snickered and sipped her drink. For now, the pressure was off, even if it was just for the night. Mila’s performance had yet again fanned the flame of determination that Clara held in her heart. Tonight they would celebrate. Tomorrow it was back to the ice. “I almost had you last year.”

“Almost,” Mila stressed.

They called it a night after a few rounds, leaving Clara heavily buzzed. It was a pleasant feeling as the sensation was warm and fuzzy. Yuri had only had one drink, nursing it the entire night. He had to compete tomorrow and showing up to morning practice hungover would probably cause Yakov to lose the rest of his hair.

“Have you been to Japan before?” Yuri asked.

“No,” Clara sighed. “I heard it’s beautiful. I have a friend who lives there right now.”

“Really?”

Clara nodded. “She’s studying animation or something. I should let her know I’ll be in the country soon.”

“You should. I’d like to meet her,” Yuri encouraged.

“We can go to an arcade,” Clara gasped with an excited realization. “Maybe I can kick her butt at DDR again.”

Yuri chuckled and smiled at the glimmer in Clara’s eyes. He found it hard to believe how barely 24 hours earlier she was in a fog of anxiety, but he was glad to see that she had bounced back. “I never took you as one to go to an arcade.”

“I love arcades. Carrie’s older brother would take us to the mall just to go to the arcade when we were kids.” Clara beamed. “Most of my allowance went toward those machines. But then the arcade closed and her parents were pretty strict on not having video games in the house.”

“What about your house?”

“Pfft,” Clara chuckled. “A system cost as much as my skates once you added in all the games and attachments. I couldn’t ask that of Poppo.” Yuri blinked as Clara hugged his arm closer as they walked. “I miss him,” she muttered. Yuri slipped his arm out of Clara’s grip, only to bring her in closer by wrapping it around her waist. Clara rested her head on his shoulder. “He thought you were a punk.”

“He never met me.”

“We’d watch you skate. I really admire you and Mila,” Clara said. “I might… I might have had a crush on you. Like a little one.”

Yuri felt his heart skip a beat and color rush to his face. “Wait, what?”

“You’re surprised?”

“I’m not...I mean… I thought it a more recent...thing.”

“I almost sent you a card for your birthday once,” Clara chuckled. “It had a tiger on it.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I chickened out,” Clara sighed. “I guess the kids at school just got to me. They convinced me that you wouldn’t even open it. So I just hid it. Poppo thought I mailed it.”

“Do... you still have it?”

“I might. Not sure where I put it. It was so long ago. I’ll look for it when we get back home.”

“I can help,” Yuri offered.

“No, no it’s fine.”

“What do you have secret binders of magazine clippings or something?”

“Mmmmm.”

“Oh my god, Clara,” Yuri laughed. Clara deeply blushed. He kissed her head. “You’re such a dork.”

“But I’m your dork.”

\--------------------------- 

The arena was abuzz with a tense, but active energy. It was the final day of the Rostelecom Cup after all. Clara was ringside as she was before. The press had managed to get a few meager interviews out of her about the events that unfolded the other night. All she did was confirm that she and Yuri were a couple and didn’t go beyond that. Yuri did the same. Today they wanted the focus to be on his skating and the final results that would determine who of his division would move onto the final in Tokyo. Though Clara knew that Yuri would make the cut, he had been doing so for several years now.

When she was done being interviewed, Clara hung around the waiting area where Yuri jogged in place and stretched as he waited for his turn on the ice. She kept her earphones in as to keep her own nerves under control and prevent any further journalists from talking to her. Nikolai helped a bit by being a physical barrier between them. One look from the old man would have the press shuffling away.

“Do you want to watch from here or rinkside?” Yuri asked.

“Rinkside,” Clara said as she removed her headphones. “The screen doesn't do your performance justice.”

“Keep your lips to yourself this time,” Yakov stated. “The only spectacle out there should be your skating.”

“Yeah yeah,” Yuri huffed as he rolled his eyes. He smirked and looked to Clara once again. “Can I get one for good luck?”

Clara playfully sighed. “I suppose.” She caressed his face, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb before placing a light kiss on the soft skin.

Yuri chuckled. “That's not what I had in mind, but I’ll take it.”

Yuri lead their group out to the rink Yakov and Lilia followed with Clara and Nikolai bringing up the rear. Phichit had just left the ice and was seated in the kiss and cry with Celestino. The crowd was cheering was the results were announced. Clara stood back as Yakov and Yuri exchanged words as the younger man removed the guards from his blades and stepped onto the ice. Clara smiled at him and gave a thumbs up before he made his way to his starting position for his program.

Yuri’s costume was practically the polar opposite of the one he donned for his short program. This one was white with golden embellishments and a shower of small rhinestones and sequins that glimmered in the bright lights of the arena. To Clara, he resembled a fairy prince which in turn reminded her of his junior years. Back when he was mostly known as the ‘Russian Fairy’.

The music, Franz Liszt’s “Love Dream”, started and Yuri started by extending his hand in Class’s direction. Her heart skipped a beat. This was new. Yuri then bowed and spun into the start of his program. Unlike his short program, Yuri’s movements came off as light and graceful. He still commanded the audience's attention, but in an entirely different way. Clara couldn’t take her eyes away for even a moment. Even blinking seemed too long.

The crowd cheered and showered the ice with flowers and other trinkets as Yuri bowed and made his way back to them. Clara wiped the few tears from her eyes and beamed as Yuri put his guards back on his blades.

“How was that?”

“Amazing,” Clara gushed. “Certainly more polished than what I saw in France. Your jumps got a bit sloppy towards the end.” She playfully poked his chest.

Yakov cracked a smile. “I told you to pull back on the jumps.”

They made their way to the kiss and cry where Clara found herself sandwiched between Yakov and Yuri. She clung to Yuri's jacket as the results came in, which landed Yuri in first place by a small margin. Phichit followed in second with Otabek in third. Clara wrapped her arms around Yuri and she tightly held him.

“You did it,” she praised.

Yuri chuckled and kissed her head. “Looks like we're going to Japan.”


End file.
